#if I miss them I have to email her and ask for an extension

[anna-scribbles]

Hello!! How are you in this beautiful day on earth??

I was wondering if you have a fanfic masterlist? Because I am currently obsessed with your fics and would like to binge read them :)

Thanks!! <3

hi you’re so sweet!! i don’t have too many fics on my ao3 right now but they are:

call it even - joint fic with @sha-nwa

3/11 chapters, 19k so far, ongoing (updates on tuesdays & fridays!)

AU, ladynoir enemies / adrinette dating

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir.

golden (like daylight)

2/2 chapters, 13k

contemplative, prose-y, loosely-linear story about adrien loving marinette (my adrinette thesis. basically)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all. or Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

circles & cycles (right back where you started)

one shot, 2k

deleted marichat balcony scene from golden

She shouldn’t have still been up, but she was. Circles under her eyes, circle in the sky. She stood at the balcony rail tranquil and unhurried, light and air and sound all bending to the soft shape of her profile, the gentle slope of her neck. The dark made Chat restless but it framed Marinette like a painting.

at our wedding

one shot, 4k

adrien & chloe's complicated friendship through the years (feat. hypothetical platonic wedding planning

“Chloé,” Adrien said slowly, “At our wedding, are we gonna have to…” “No!” Chloé shook her head firmly. “We don’t have to kiss. We can do whatever we want. It’s our wedding.” “Oh, good,” Adrien sighed. “You have to kiss at a wedding,” Félix argued. “I don’t have to do anything and you’re not the boss of me!” Chloé shouted. “Yeah!” Adrien grinned. He grabbed Chloé’s hand again. “Yeah, it’s our wedding.”

no other shade of blue, but you

one shot, 1k

unrequited adrinette blues

There was something entrancing, though, about such a natural and uncomplicated smile on Adrien Agreste’s face. It wouldn’t have sold anybody anything; it wasn’t for anyone but himself. And her, Marinette’s mind supplied. It’s for her too. And Marinette had to know, suddenly. She had to know like she had to breathe. “What’s she like?”

[nope-body]

.

[itjazzbicch]

Let Me Love You

Pairing:  Manjiro Sano (Bonten Mikey) x Fem Reader 

(Every time I see Bonten Mikey, I'm just like damn this man needs some love lol so here we are! Hope you all enjoy!)

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS! If you haven't read the manga and don't want spoilers, heres your warning now!

Smut! (18+ Only!)(Mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, gets a little rough, creampie)

Summary: Following her skills in life much like the rest of her friends, the reader who loves music, becomes a professional singer and artist, not having much time to come home, but when she does come home, preparing for Pah's wedding the following day, she has an unexpected guest...

Word Count: 2.1k 

Life never goes as expected and knowing that I made the best out of it! I decided to follow my heart, do what I was good at, and ended up becoming an international singer and artist!

Never in a million years did I expect my life to turn out so good like this, although, traveling all around the world made it difficult to stay close to my best friends, I always stayed in touch, gave them tickets to shows when I could, and always made sure to see everyone when I was home.

I also had to make some things work, clearing out a week of my schedule to come home for Pah's wedding and stay for a bit, I needed the break. It was a great feeling being in my hometown, in the home where my heart was.

There was no escaping a little work, sitting at the computer in my office, sending out emails, and organizing things with the help of my assistant. I felt a bit guilty because this was supposed to be a break for him too, but everything was put to the side whenever he brought me water like I asked, sitting it down next to my mouse on the desk, nervous as he said:

"Also, Ms. Y/N, uh- there's someone at the door? He said that he was an old friend?"

Must've been one of the guys, thinking so, I took a quick sip, rushing, "Bring him in for me, would you?"

"Of course," He was so kind and obedient, heading out to grab my guest while I hurried to finish my last email, freezing in my seat when I heard, "Here he is. I'll be on my way now, so you can have time to yourself."

I was so shocked that I was shaking. It had been twelve years since I'd seen him with my own two eyes.

Mikey.

Draken and Mitsuya had mentioned to me before that he was still participating in gang-related activities, which wasn't a surprise. I didn't know extensive details of what Mikey had been up to and part of me didn't want to know.

"T-Thank you, dear. Get home safe," I swallowed down as my assistant left, standing up slowly, whispering while connecting gazes with him, "M-Mikey?"

"Long time no see, Y/N," It looked like Mikey surely needed a good night's sleep, but he put on the tiniest smile for me.

I thought I was seeing a ghost. Mikey and I were inseparable once upon a time, some could agree that I was closer to him than Draken used to be. Emotions from so long ago started rising, taking slow steps, needing to know that this was all real, hugging him and tightly.

No one has seen Mikey at all these past twelve years, and he came to see me? Why me? I had a lot of questions, but at the same time, I felt so relieved, hopeful that maybe this was the beginning of him coming back home and staying home. Letting things be like how they used to be.

The entire old gang was still together, he was the only missing piece.

It wasn't very much, but he did hug me back, patting my back softly, eyes glistening at me when I picked up my head, eyes full of tears:

"I'm sorry that I'm crying, I just-; I can't believe this!"

Those tears were happy ones mostly, beginning to smile at his little smirk:

"I know it's been a long time, and this was so sudden, but I wanted to see you."

"It's fine!" I assured, cleaning myself up, getting the door, and leading him out to the room where I entertained guests, guiding him to a chair, then to the bar, "You want a drink? I have just about anything you can think of."

"I'm sure you know what I like," He murmured while sitting back, eyes exploring his surroundings, "Nice house you have."

"Why thank you," I was getting myself some wine, a glass of authentic whiskey that I got from Europe on the rocks for him, "Music has brought me a long way."

"I've seen," In the corner of my eye, I could see him smiling at me. Mikey was the one person who could do the tiniest thing and I'd get flustered by it, even after twelve years that hasn't changed.

Distracting myself, I started singing to myself softly, finishing up the drinks and putting things away, and before I could turn back to him, I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, keeping me in a light embrace, whispering in my ear:

"I haven't heard your voice in person for so long. It's just as beautiful as I remember."

"It makes me happy that you think so," I smiled nervously, cheeks filling with heat, but paying close attention when he went on:

"I had been wondering about your songs lately, how many love songs you've made. Do you have some special in your life?"

I had no clue why he asked or how to answer because I didn't, thinking off the top of my head, "No, uh-, people are just suckers for love songs, you know? And a lot of my fanbase is young girls so-"

"Your nervous laughs and stuttering make me think otherwise," Mikey knew when I was lying, if I wasn't already horrible at it, he just knew, "But one particular song, I remember one of your lines, where you said they'll never know how good it feels to have your affection, never get to experience your love."

Despite all this time apart, he still paid attention to what I was doing, my music, and could still read me like a book, laying his head on my shoulder, mentioning:

"You haven't changed a bit, Y/N."

"It's not too late to get to know, Mikey," I whispered ghostly, holding his arms tight, feeling how he squeezed me tighter too, trying to get over all the emotions that were holding me back, letting Mikey know that he was the one who I wrote all my songs about, "It sure as hell looks like you need it too."

"Look at me," Guiding me around to face him, I was just trying to read him, remembering how he was holding me, then the darkness in his eyes.

All of that showed me exactly why he was here and now, I was more relieved that he was here. Before he could say more, I moved a strand of hair away from his face, holding his cheek:

"It's never too late and you're right, those songs are about someone special. It's you and I'm not afraid anymore to tell you that I love you. Despite everything, I love you, Mikey."

How the look in his eyes changed, you'd think no one had ever told them that they loved him before. He kept his composure, but I could see it in his eyes, then this snap.

I see that his speed never changed, reeling me in so quickly, his lips smacked into mine, so hungry and in need. It almost felt like he needed to be saved, just needed to know that someone loved him, and I was more than willing to be that person.

Kissing back and glancing for just a moment, his liveliness was coming back which made me smile against his lips, whispering:

"You don't have any other plans tonight, do you?"

"No," He huffed out quickly, hands latched to me, and with that green light, I sped up and there was no slowing down.

Not letting my lips leave for more than a second down the hall to my room. He had already shown me with his ways that he had experience, but this was different. Sitting him on my bed before straddling him, laying him back while kissing his neck, and letting his hand wander across my skin as clothes began to disappear.

It had been a long twelve years, filled with worrying about him so much, missing him horribly. I knew that he was no angel, but just him showing up, let alone this? My Mikey was still in there. Just buried deep and I was going to dig him out.

Both of us in just our skin, the hand he had on my hip began to push a little, ready to have me be the one on my back, earning a curious glare when I took his wrist, pinning him softly.

There was a slight tear in my eye staring down at him, but a soft smile on my face, positioning myself and kissing with a whisper:

"Just let me love you, Mikey."

Small gasps were against our lips while I sat on his cock, slow and steady till I had every inch, hands sliding from his wrists to his chest and pressing down, beginning to roll my hips, his hands finding my hips again, digging into its meaty side, hearing under his breath:

"You're so soft, warm-"

"And you feel amazing, Mikey," I moaned down into his ear, head resting on his shoulder, the desire for pleasure growing even stronger, making my hips rock quicker instinctively.

His silence made me wonder briefly, till I noticed how his legs shift, picking up his hips, thrusts matching my speed for a moment before going faster, how the tip of his cock was smacking my sweet spot, making my walls clench tighter, my moans louder, body beginning to squirm and nails sinking into his shoulders.

I saw the little smile on his face, when I picked my head up, flipping some hair away from my face because of the small sweats on my forehead, gasping for air, "M-Mikey-"

"Let me feel it," Holding the back of my head, forehead to forehead, his thrusts started coming even quicker, "Cum for me. I don't care if you make a mess."

"I'm right there, Mikey!" The second my walls pulsated; he kissed me with an animalistic side that I'd never really seen, even with all my moans and whines, kept going and dragging out the extreme high.

It was too good, making us both want more, so gone and lost in another world that I lost track of time. Just looking out the window at times, it was easy to tell that it was dead in the night.

I never knew I had this much in me, but knew I was reaching my limit.

Mikey had us on our sides, kept in a tight hug with one of my legs trapped in it, giving him the room, he needed to drill away inside of me. My head kept falling back with breathless moans, I was sure that I was barely breathing, a swirl in my head, the pleasure had turned me into a cock-drunk mess.

"Think you can give it to me just one last time?" I heard Mikey, but couldn't respond, having to hold my head up to ensure I was paying attention, "Come on love."

"I can," I breathed out hollowly, nearly crying at the tensity in my body from head to toe, squeezing his cock so hard that it ached some, begging him, "Make me cum, Mikey!"

I thought his grip was strong before till he showed me a whole new level, in a grip so tight that my whole body felt as if it had its own heartbeat, all the air I tried taking in stuck in my chest, able to hear the gush and slick against his cock, his voice nearly echoing to me:

"F-Fuck, Y/N. S-So damn tight. It's so good."

His hold on me loosened up and relaxing my leg on the side of his hip, nearly limp against his body, but still feeling everything, how his thrusts began to slow, hugging him and whispering with my head against his neck:

"C-Cum in me. I want to know how good it feels."

"Tell me then," He whispered back, pinning his hips against mine, moaning against the skin of his neck, feeling even hotter than I already did when his seed flooded my walls, so warm and deep, gasping but letting him know:

"It's the best feeling I've ever felt, Mikey."

"The best, hm?" He hummed, fixing my head so we could look into each other's eyes.

The longer I looked, even with tired eyes, I could tell something was different than when he first came, and that change was for the better. All I could do was smile, getting a real one in return, something I feared that I'd never see again.

I never felt so happy, knowing he wasn't leaving by how he laid back, keeping me to his chest and helping me with the blanket. All those hours together surely wore me out, yawning from the exhaustion, cooing before drifting off:

"The best feeling ever." 

[moothecowgirl]

Whenever I was younger and would see my ammi on the phone with her sisters who live on entirely different continents, with so much joy in her eyes and a voice where every vowel and consonant is coated in sweet honey she reserves just for them, I would think to myself on how that would feel. To be apart from your sisters for years on end, and still have such warmth with them. And in my foolish childish innocence I would gloss over the idea not fully understanding it.

And now a decade later when I see my ammi on the phone with her sisters, I think about my sisters and I. Although the severity is much smaller - different cities rather than continents and days between meeting versus years - I think about how after phoning them to let them know of my latest discovery or accomplishment or of the emotions I feel in their absence, I find that same joy in my eyes and the same honey glazed over on my words. And now I understand my ammi. I understand her now for I find myself doing the same.

I call my sisters to let them know of a joke baba made at the dinner table, I call them while I walk from my car to door of the campus library, I call them when I cooked something I so desperately wish I could share with them, I call them when the isolation of being the last daughter at home gets to my head, I call them when I’m nervous about an email I have to send asking for an extension, I call them to tell them to look out the window at the moon, I call them in dressing rooms at the mall asking for their opinions while my friends are just outside, I call them when I see a funny bumper sticker, I call them when I’m awkwardly standing in public and want to look busy. I call them and I call them and I call them over and over again to fill the void felt in my home and in my heart.

I write these words with a bit of sadness, yes. For I miss when my sisters and I resided under the same roof, when my ammi’s anger was us versus her not me versus her, and when our dinner table was always full with six plates rather than four.

However, their absence has taught me savor their presence more sweetly and more fondly. It has taught me time and distance is not as great of a foe against the bounds of blood and love. So, until next Monday evening when all six of us shall break our fast together just like the old times but now we are blessed to warmly welcome their husbands and children.

[levmada]

at last, i have the time to send you multiple of these because i cream whenever i read something you write. anyway…

could i ask for levi… college au and call from this list? but levi is the one in distress? it’s usually common that the reader is crying, but it would be nice to see levi getting comforted too :’)

(from more hurt/comfort, if the link doesn’t work :s)

ik i just posted a long oneshot yesterday but my drafts are clogged. i fucking love comforting levi so this is the first of ur requests i worked on suki :3 i hope u like it

content/warnings: Kenny is actually not that bad?, negative self-talk, HURT/COMFORT SO MUCH COMFORT, death of a parent, taking care of Levi, college au, specific descriptions/themes of severe depression

wc: 2.5k

One muse calls sender late at night in tears and the other comes over to comfort them. 

Levi knows, in a vague, peripheral way, that he is being shitty to you with no intention to. Not a day ever goes by where you two don’t talk, but he hasn't responded to Erwin or Hange’s texts, either. Emails from professors, too. Even Mikasa has been blowing up his phone since she heard from her mom what happened, but.

He has spent the better part of the past two days in bed since leaving class early on Thursday.

That’s fucking unheard of for him, especially answering his uncle of all people, but five silent, missed calls later Levi picked up, and down the line, Kenny’s voice was urgent.

Kenny. Urgent.

It’s the weekend, Levi rationalized to himself on Friday. Grades would be okay. His social life would suffer, but he would text you Saturday morning after he got his mental shit together.

The worst part is he fucking knew he was in denial—again, in the vague, peripheral way.

Now, with Sunday night’s moon glaring in through his bedroom window, he realizes he doesn’t give a shit about any of it.

A mishmash of tasks, far removed from any coherent list, bothers him from time to time—most often after he blinks from his perpetual frozen stupor to his phone ringing; besides Mikasa, you’ve called the most.

He needs to...

He realizes he’s been stroking his oily hair without realizing, all in the dark for however long, and stops. It felt soothing.

A shower. Dishes. He hasn't eaten much lately, but all the same. Homework... unless he emails his professors for extensions.

He has no doubt in his mind that he would get them, but just typing the words makes his train of thought derail into hell. Despite how vague he could be—“I need to attend a funeral.”; “There has been a death in my family.”; “I am experiencing a loss.”—heavy nausea twists his stomach in knots just to put the words together in his head.

He hasn’t changed out of your woolen sweater since Friday, the one with the panda bear. It’s also soothing.

But changing clothes is also on that list.

And he needs to call you, at the very least so you don’t lose your mind, or jump to the worst conclusions…

He’s being shitty to you by ignoring you, but the idea of reaching for his phone where it sits charging on the bedside table, the idea of rolling over, the idea of rubbing his eyes… It all feels as possible as flipping over gravity.

Laying in dead darkness isn’t going to make him feel any better, he knows. The quiet is piercing. The way he lays curled up under blankets isn’t unlike a corpse, either, but this deep in the hole, he’s struggling to get himself out.

He is not... in a good... place.

Bright white light washes over the ceiling as another call from you—that's your picture flashing, a candid photo he took of you almost tumbling out of your kayak from last summer—lights up his phone.

Move, he commands himself. It’s a foot away. Quit being pathetic and just. MOVE!

“Shit,” he croaks.

You’re worrying the shit out of them, you asshole!

After whipping the loose sleeve across his eyes, he lurches up and snatches his phone.

He forgot. The charging cable is yanked from the outlet and clatters on hardwood.

Shit. That couldn’t make the top fifteen on his list of priorities right now.

He tugs the cord from his phone and actually sets it on the floor at least. With his back killing him (from how long he has rotted in this fucking bed), he flops back and sluggishly rolls onto his side.

But as soon as he goes to press the green call button, it rings its last.

For a few unbelieving moments, he stares at his dark screen, not processing. The wider darkness turns blurry.

“Okay,” he whispers at last, and clears his voice of its rough edges in preparation.

It’s just like you to be up this late on a Sunday night; catching up on homework, probably. But he’s worrying himself sick over taking up the rest of your night. He doesn’t plan to go to class tomorrow.

He taps your contact through his stinging eyes, brimming with unshed tears.

And he’s worried about what he’ll say. He has practiced, wracked his mind for the right words, but he just can’t.

But it’s better you hear from him first. Eventually, you would find out anyway—Mikasa will tell Eren who will tell you in class tomorrow, he bets—and he can’t think of anyone else to talk to. No one that wouldn’t drain the life out of him, and-or make him feel somehow worse, and-or someone he can talk to when he’s like this.

The call rings once—no, less than once.

“Levi?” your breathy voice, full of exasperation hits his ear. His throat instantly lurches. “Are... Are you there? Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since Friday. I thought maybe your phone broke, but—”

But you haven’t seen him in that class you have together, and no one else has heard from him either, he knows, but he lets you speak. He needs time to collect himself. And he can bathe in the sound of your voice for the first time in two hellish days.

"Levi? Baby?"

“I’m.” He cringes at the crack in his voice that already threatens to shatter. “I’m here.”

Your tone shifts into absolute concern. “There you are. I missed you.”

It shows how well you know him, you not asking what’s wrong directly.

His adam’s apple hiccups as he swallows, but the knot in his throat won’t give, and so a soft sob escapes instead.

“Shh...” He can practically see the surprise on your face. “Lev’ I’m here, I’m here...”

Eyes shut tight, he shoves his fist in his mouth in order to stop. The last thing he should be crying about is hearing your voice, you comforting him without even asking for an explanation.

“I’m here, sweetie.”

“…You’re n-not here,” he grinds out. He doesn’t know where this sudden flux of anger is coming from. “S-Something,” he gasps, crying, “Something happened.”

Your voice leaves. Quiet feels endless, until, “Okay, I’m coming over. And don’t you dare say no, if you were going to.” He hears a laptop slamming shut and the creak of your mattress when he strains his ears. “I’m on my way right now, so it’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”

It takes ten to get from your dorm to his apartment. “Don’t fucking speed,” he whispers.

“I won’t,” you tell him gently. He’s glad you don’t take that as a joke right now. “Promise.”

He shudders a tearful breath and smears his sleeve down his cheeks, which are wet.

The conversation is nearing its end: he hears the thump of a car door closing.

No part of him would have had the energy to turn you down. In fact, spending another ten minutes the same way he has spent the entire weekend looms over him now, encompassing.

“Could you...” Now he’s not only whimpering pathetically, but congested. “…Not hang up?”

“I was just about to say that,” you say. Your engine hums to life. “I can tell you about my weekend while we wait?”

He won’t have to talk, and not about himself. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Sure.”

The rest of the world fades out as you search for topics to ramble about, from your misadventures grocery-shopping on Saturday, to how shrimp-flavored Ramen is actually sinfully underrated, the flood in the laundry room...

He’s much calmer by the time your engine shuts off, but that only makes room for the numbness.

“I’m here,” you say down the other line. “Can I let myself in?”

Instead of getting ready, he forgot to move from his current spot—cuddled up to a fat pillow on his side with your voice set on top—since you got on the road.

“Yeah.” His absent voice is something between a grunt and a whisper. “But it’s… messy.”

Just as your keychain jingles down the other line, his front door down the hallway, in front of the living room, clicks open.

“Are you in bed?” you ask. He can hear you both ways.

Answering that question makes him feel like shit for some reason. “Sorry about the mess,”he murmurs, feeling shittier still, and hangs up.

And his place isn’t the only mess. His hair is a greasy nest of some kind, he can feel his eyes are swollen, and he got snot all over your fucking sweater.

Suddenly, he would rather rot away under these blankets the rest of the night than have you be subjected to him like this.

His bedroom isn’t your first stop. Maybe it’s because he didn’t answer your obvious question, so you’re giving him time to collect himself before he comes out.

Then in the kitchen, the sink starts running. Something clatters.

Are you doing his dishes?

His brow knits. He ghosted you all weekend, and now on a Sunday night he has you doing his dishes. Guilt like a fucking tsunami drags him under.

Yet, it’s still impossible to stand.

His eyes sting, pricked by fresh, unshed tears.

Compared to his usual habits, he has slept ages this weekend. He feels himself drift and doze to the tune of the dishes making small racket, even through the faint whistle of the kettle. It feels unimportant, like background noise.

He stirs though, as the mattress sags by his head. His phone makes a soft thunk as it’s placed back on the nightstand. Something clicks back into the wall.

Those tears from before make their appearance, so he turns his head so his face is in the pillow. His first breath has him struggling; he cried so much he can’t physically breathe through his nose.

Your warm voice chimes through the darkness. “I made some tea. Can I turn on the light so you can drink it?”

His nails dig into his palm. “The,” a breath through his mouth, “lamp.”

Beyond the pillow’s gentle realms, he hears a click before a faint glow invades the dark. A hand floats down to his shoulder, and rubs, but he doesn’t make himself move.

You must have at least some idea of the kind of state he’s in now, yet you still haven't asked the obvious.

You knew Mom’s health was getting worse, unexplainable symptoms for an unknown illness, but not... Not what happened on Friday. Not that he didn’t even get a chance to hear her voice one last time. Not Kenny’s call.

“I’m right here,” you tell him. “Everything’s gonna be alright, sweetie.”

Are you an angel? Your hand cards his wet bangs off his face, and he cringes. He knows the grease doesn’t matter to you, but it does to him.

“I didn't ask you to do all that,” he protests weakly, unmoving. By the shift in the mattress, he can tell you’re reaching for tissues.

They’re precariously balanced on top of the pillow. “Do you want a change of clothes?”

He shudders a sigh without really meaning to, he’s so mentally exhausted. Clearly he won’t be getting anywhere in terms of complaining, so he does the bare minimum of pushing himself up on one arm. Without looking at you, he takes a tissue.

Your free hand is right there, though. He reaches, and shyly takes that, too. When you squeeze, he squeezes back a little too quickly.

A fresh cup of steaming tea waits on the nightstand for him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, head still downturned.

“Always.” You pet his hair down. “I’ll start the shower.”

“Okay.” His voice breaks. “Thanks.”

Properly sat up, he finishes the incredible cup of tea you brewed before you even get back. For one thing, he can’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, and he’s been losing a lot of water. Plus, you’re the only one who knows how he likes it, and… it comforts him in a way little else can.

Once he’s done washing up under the hot water, having stood there long enough for his hands to prune, he changes into the navy pullover, briefs, and sweatpants you brought for him.

Now he idles in the doorway, still not quite believing you’re not an angel. Another steaming cup waits on his nightstand, and you’ve been cleaning up more. His made bed has clean sheets, and the rest of his dirty laundry is gone. You even re-organized his desk.

You look up from your seat at the foot of the bed as the bathroom door peeks open.

Usually, you get onto him for his cleaning habits. Then again, he never, ever cries in front of you.

“Hi.” You smile faintly. “It’s okay. You don't have to talk about it.”

He looks down and away.

“But… can I stay the night?”

“Yeah.”

But he won’t be going to class tomorrow, and he can’t say that a shower and some tea will be enough to shake him out of this. It won’t be. He doesn’t want support like this while you don’t even know why—to him it feels unfair.

You scoot back on the bed, the springs whining under your weight, and untuck the sheets. For how impossible everything felt earlier, nothing could have stopped him from climbing into bed and crawling into your arms.

You both settle down. The blankets are pulled up to his shoulders, which you wrap your arms around.

“I like that shampoo.” You kiss the top of his head.

He blinks mildly. Mostly, he just listens to your heart. “Thank you.”

In the mirror, it looked like he had applied red eyeshadow, the bags under his eyes dark beyond belief. The swelling is a little better after a hot shower.

“I don’t wanna keep you in the dark,” he explains. Those must be the most words he's spoken all weekend.

You wait while carding your fingers through his damp hair.

“It’s Mom.”

“Oh.” The word leaves you like a punch. Your soothing hand stutters, but doesn’t stop. “Is she getting worse…?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t know how to say it. “No. Not anymore.”

Silence.

“Oh, Levi.” You take him further into your warm caress until he’s all but curled up on top of you. Your hand strokes his back up and down.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” you whisper, a touch heavy. “I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes you tight, trying to burrow into your arms, and shuts his eyes even tighter. The feeling that sits in his chest, begging him to cry even more, returns at full-force.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, because it will never be okay.

You offer to email his professors, maybe tell them in person, so he can have some much-needed time to grieve. Even his homework you say you can do, but he turns you down on that one. It’s enough that you just...

“…stay. Here.”

“You have me,” you reassure into his hair. “I got you.”

Enter the event here!

taglist: @ackermandick | @midtwenties-angst | @sckerman | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @jayteacups | @notgoodforlife | @peace-for-levi | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 | + link to sign up

[youngster-monster]

everytime i look back at my own anon asks they get longer and i feel like im writing an essay except the essay is hyperfixation fueled rambling . does that mean anything i WILL get my wow lore from you i HAVE been getting my wow lore from you and there is nothing that any gamer alive can do to stop me because i have more free time than i should be allowed to have and an obsession for two dead gay elves. i think about them every single day and i think that this can be accredited to you, ELVES???? IN MY MULTI-MASSIVELY ONLINE ROLEPLAYING GAME???????? MANY OF THEM??? AND THEYRE COMPETENT TOO?????? oh man oh god i (i am shoveling everything on my desk into a suitcase) i dunno if i (i am hauling my computer and monitors into a comically enormous suitcase that is far larger than the contents would require) dunno if i can (searching "FINAL FANTASY XIV DOWNLOAD") i dont know if i can play that g- okay for real though i May In Fact Download FFXIV . i am scared of games i know nothing about because Uh brain sucks but youve convinced me by setting up one of those stick and box animal traps with promise of elves as the bait. i now get to message my sister who has also been hitting me with ffxiv copypasta and tell her i am interested PLEASE please please i would literally do anything to see subs tank so that they have no choice but to kick illidan out of space hell and by extension kael and vashj too so they can be mean to eachother and have the banter i so crave. to me their banter is what mana addiction is to the high elves. i miss them every single day my brother actually found out about the gay elves when i left wow open on my computer ("what relevance does that have?" you know how you can name your wow character almost anything? yeah so i have this thing where i physically cannot stop myself from testing if ship names are available for use on any game i play and uhm. youll never guess what i was testing on wow right then and there) which is tragically positioned in such a way that it is visible to the entire room and when he saw it he looked so disappointed but in no way surprised whatsoever

the time that i have to message you approaches very quickly because the ask length is getting Worse. it is getting So Bad. my deepest condolences that you have to sift through this whole thing i just have so many things to say at any given time

frankly this reminds me of my old forums days. did y'all ever do that thing where you made a friend on a forum and instead of exchanging numbers (no mobile phone) or skype contacts you'd just exchange novel-length private messages? emails with extra steps.

i am so sorry for the dead elves brainrot. it will get worse.

me 🤝 your sister Come Play FFXIV. They Are Extending The Free Trial In October. You Cannot Escape The Elves

it's actually a good game too especially once you make it past base game! as a wow player i found it pretty easy to get into after a quick period of adaptation ( < forged in the crucible of wotlk-era wow)

i just KNOW the outland trio has some incredibly comedic AND tragic potential with their banter and blizzard is KEEPING IT FROM US.

everyday hapless brothers are subjected to their sibling's dead gay elves obsession.... and it will happen again. when we're in the same room i often ask my brother random wow lore questions and he answers me immediately before going (extremely suspicious) "why. is this for a fanfic." yes it is now tell me more about coastal cities in the eastern kingdom for this throwaway line im trying to write

i also cannot shut the fuck up and i love attention and friendship so i'm having a blast personally 😌 everyday i log on and go "ah :) got a new message from my Secret Connection" like we're two spies in the 17th century corresponding through letters folded under a rock

[keepingthehopealive]

Updates

Job- going so well. I have a lot to learn, but also have a good basis of skills and knowledge which is allowing me to jump right in. My preceptor has worked there over 30 years so her knowledge is beyond extensive. Everyone has been so nice and I love the patients and their families. I'm definitely where I'm meant to be. I'll write more specifically on my other blog about work though

Fostering this weekend was so nice! It was good for me and for my dog to have another dog around and I know it was good for her to get a break from the shelter. I miss her so much already. Me and the dogs spent time with my cousins this morning, the dogs got to enjoy the nice weather and run around, B (foster) practiced being brave and meeting new people. All around a good day. E is currently catching up on sleep from all the play time. I hope to take her, and other pups out for breaks again, until I'm on nights or find a good fit that can do ok when I'm at work all day with just the walk mid day. B had too much energy so I know in some ways its better than the shelter but still didn't want to do that to her. Once I'm on nights I can take longer term fosters, but in the meantime these slumber pawtys are perfect.

Therapy- had an intake on Friday with a therapist and I thought it went really well. I didn't book another appt yet because I have another intake on Tuesday and therapist 1 (the nature therapist) knew that. Long story short we specifically talked about if she would see me and felt comfortable (I asked) and she said yes and said she would be upfront if that wasn't the case or if I needed more care she would tell me that and get a team for me etc. Then today I get a message that was pretty nonspecific that she's not able to see me, no reason given, just that the level of clinical support I need is outside her practice (what?! I've been doing weekly therapy now for 2 years and have been fine with that). I know it's unreasonable and maybe weird but I am so hurt and confused by it. I'm in a stable place and have been for a while, I'm not overly relying on therapy but benefit from the support. I don't know what I said or did that made her make that decision. I thought it was gonna be a good fit and was excited to work with her because she's different than what I've had in the past. I know I can't get stuck on it and maybe it's not as personal as it feels, but it feels pretty damn awful. And personal. I did message back and nicely asked for more of an explanation but I imagine she won't likely respond. And I know at this point I shouldn't want to see her anyway. It feels like a big rejection and proves that I'm too much and too hard for even a therapist to put up with me. I'm spiraling a lot. I thought this time would be different and that I would be in control of choosing who I want to see and had options (last time I had intense SI and SH and that really limited who would see me outpatient especially)

I'm hoping Tuesdays intake goes well and I've already started looking for other options if I need them. I still will be seeing L too until I settle with a new provider. I sent her an email today because that helps when I'm this upset and triggered. I know I'll find someone to see, I just hate all this so much.

I'm excited to go back to work tomorrow and am just gonna snuggle the pup and try to move on from this situation because I can't do anything to change it.

[transamorousnetwork]

I Violated The Rules. What Happened Next Was Awesome.

Editor’s note: The Transamorous Network publishes across several platforms. Medium.com is one of those. This story describes what happened when Medium’s lawyers contacted us about last week’s post.

When I noticed the email from their lawyers, a lump formed in my throat. Only for a second though. That’s because I know what I know: I create my reality. So what was about to happen was going to be more of what’s come before: really good stuff.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I write posts for The Transamorous Network to inspire transgender women and trans-attracted men towards getting what they want. In doing that, I’m doing my part to bring both communities together. They’re really one community. But because both sides vilify one another, they look like two communities. They’re not, however.

Most posts tell how my clients’ lives become happier after practicing what I offer. Their lives become happier when clients learn how stories create reality. Then they learn how to use that knowledge to deliberately create lives in which everything they want happens.

But I sometimes share about my life. For me, life is a living laboratory. I want to see how good life can get. If we all create our reality, I dare to create something never seen before. So I’m pushing this practice to its extremes. I practice what I preach, in other words.

As a result, some posts I write share what’s happening with me. That’s what I shared in a recent post. A post I’ve since deleted.

I deleted it after engaging with Medium.com’s lawyers. They didn’t tell me to delete it. I deleted it on my own.

But again, I’m getting ahead of myself.

My evidence gets me in trouble

Last week I posted a story about a transgender woman who was outing trans-attracted men around the country. She would date them briefly. Then she’d send letters to family members or wives outing the men. I didn’t know who this woman was. I wanted to know her, though.

So I set my intention to discover her. The post described how that happened. It happened in this incredible way. One I couldn’t have planned, because it involved people I didn’t even know.

Previous posts about this unfolding warned men to look out for her and avoid her. There’s a vigilante out there, I told my trans-attracted readers. So when my intention fulfilled itself, by bringing me her identity, I saw it as my role to help men avoid getting into trouble. I therefore included the woman’s first name. I also included pictures of her.

While the story was still published, I received positive reactions. One comment on Medium.com caught my attention though. A transgender woman wrote disapprovingly about me including the woman’s picture.

Now, again, I practice what I share with my clients extensively in my own life. One area I’ve intended deliberately is connecting with people who appreciate what I share. Especially people who are respectful and kind. So it didn’t surprise me, nor did I miss how gentle and kind this trans woman expressed her disapproval. She was firm, but she made a request that I remove the perpetrator’s picture and thanked me in advance. She would check back, she said, and if the picture remained, she would report the post to Medium.com for violating their terms.

Here’s her comment:

^^The kind, but firm comment I appreciated.

Calling the moderation police

I replied to the trans woman with equal gentleness. Here’s what I wrote:

I think this surprised the commenter. She replied with another really kind comment. It included more detail for why she wrote her first comment. Her rationale made a lot of sense. Much of it I agreed with. Here’s what she wrote:

And, in full transparency, here’s how I responded. We see the world very similarly. Yet, there’s a fair distinction too. Neither is right or wrong.

My message to the moderators got a relatively immediate reply. It said they hadn’t read the post yet, but would. Based on my initial inquiry, they asked if I owned rights to the photos. I did not.

I prepared to remove the photos because of the rights claim. But I also wanted to hear what they thought after reading the post. With all this attention on it, I forgot what the post really was about. It wasn’t about targeting this transgender woman. Instead, it mainly described how my intention delightfully fulfilled itself. And how I resolved the mystery with no effort on my part.

That’s something I promise awaits anyone who learns what I offer: The ability to manifest anything they want with no effort. Including fantastic love lives.

A perspective-transforming email

The next morning, I got an email from “legal@medium.com”. It wasn’t at all what I expected. Instead of saying whether the post violated their terms, it was an appeal employing the Socratic Method. It caught me by surprise. I’ll append a screen shot of the response at the end of this story, followed by their very kind followup.

The email went straight to the matter. It felt like a better version of me was talking to myself. The writer after laying out their perspective asked a question. Upon reading their argument, all I could do is agree: I may or may not have violated the terms. But that wasn’t the point. The question was, do I align with Medium.com’s goal?

^^Medium.com’s awesome about statement.

Of course I do align with it. But what happened next was transformative.

I felt two powerful emotions after reading their appeal. One was embarrassment. The other: shame. I knew everything the appeal offered. Why didn’t that knowledge keep me from posting those photos?

I’ll answer that in a bit.

Meanwhile, something remarkable happened. Because of what I practice, I knew what “embarrassment” and “shame” were telling me. In that split-second I felt those emotions, I used them to discover really disempowering stories. Stories I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about had this not happened.

In other words, the emotions were good. Not because I should be embarrassed and ashamed. But because they offered tremendous transformation.

The goodness in “bad” situations

My Broader Perspective knew this was a transformative opportunity. One that would benefit me hugely going forward. But stories active in me said “You did something wrong.” “You’re a bad person.”, “You’re a hypocrite.”

Everything happening in life offers extreme value. I wanted to write, just now, “everything happening in life is good“. But the word “good”, for us humans, fouls up our minds. That’s because our concept of “good” is highly restricted.

So “value” is a better word. Everything happening holds great value.

But, humans are free to create any interpretation they want about what’s happening. Interpreting what’s happening as anything other than valuable, however, creates realities matching that “off” interpretation.

This explains why it’s very hard, if not impossible, to find a lover if we believe one doesn’t exist. Or if we believe the target of our affection will never want us. Or if we don’t believe we’re good enough to have that love. Our beliefs are the place from which our reality springs. 

Life works that way so we can “true” up our stories/beliefs/interpretations so they match what’s really happening. In doing that, we align ourselves with our unfolding desires. Our life then fills with what we want. It does that with no effort on our part. So when life “goes wrong” or seems “bad”, it’s good. Life is showing us something important so we can do something about it.

The gifts begin rolling in

What you just read comprises the foundation for The Transamorous Network practice. Clients and I take a journey towards getting all we want, effortlessly. It is possible. But that experience requires removing many, many beliefs we have. Many we have created ourselves, but many others we’ve adopted from the world around us. Including other people.

Shame and embarrassment pointed to beliefs of the latter variety. For me, they got started in childhood, with parents, teachers and others doing what they thought was “educating” me. Later, workplace “performance reviews” perpetuated such beliefs. Friendships and lovers perpetuated them too. Registering lovers’ and friends’ disapproval in me often amplified similar beliefs.

But I’m not that child who needed education. I never was. Nor was I what supervisors, past friends or lovers saw. Instead, I’m an eternal, wise, rambunctious being. An eternal being that enjoys total freedom as part of All That Is. An eternal being on a glorious adventure of life in physical reality!

I no longer need to hold onto those bogus stories! But I can’t release them unless I know they’re there. This whole experience showed me where they were!

For ALL it’s worth

That was the first gift of this whole encounter: Recognition and acknowledgment. From there, I saw the transgender woman who commented, and the Medium.com legal team member, were helping me realize something important. They showed me the dominant self-image I hold.

Both people were kind and respectful, loving even. The legal team member, especially, communicated in a way I deeply appreciated. But both reflect back to me my own inner self-concept (a story). One that says “I want to be someone who is decent, loving and kind to all people.”

I hadn’t been a loving person with the perpetrator, I thought. But then I realized the next major benefit this experience offered. It offered the opportunity to serve her in the way the legal person and the commenter served me.

Understanding how this unfolded requires acknowledging the complexity inherent in life experience. But it’s so good to tell. It’s good to tell because it shows how we all are one. We’re all helping one another expand into more of the decent, loving, eternal beings we all are.

Remember the question I posed earlier?

I knew everything the legal team member offered. Why didn’t that knowledge keep me from posting those photos? 

The following section answers that question.

One of many benefits

We’re all connected. We’re also all moving through the exact same process: We’re expanding into the fuller nature of who/what we are. Each of us exist in unique “locations” on this expansionary process. But we all help one another as we help ourselves.

Abraham calls this “helping” aspect of life “cooperative components.” In other words, people act as cooperative components to others’ individual expansion. They reflect back to us what we need to expand. Life experience generally does this too. It’s the major “purpose” of life experience. It doesn’t matter that we often are oblivious to these cooperative components. They’re helping anyway. 

So Úmi, the woman I “outed” in the deleted post, is undergoing her expansion, as am I. As are you. Úmi has experienced a lot of troubling and traumatic situations. Especially at the hands of men. Of course, she’s creating those. She creates them through stories she tells. As she tells them, she creates situations which reflect those stories back to her.

Úmi, then, is creating experiences with men which reflect her own inner conflicts about her life, who she believes she is and a host of other subjects. Attacking men, their wives and families is a lashing out at that reality. The reality is there to have her see what’s happening inside her, though. She doesn’t know this, of course, so she blames her situation for how she feels. Meeting The Transamorous Network and using it as a tool caused me to rendezvous with her and her stories. I became, therefore, a cooperative component of her expansion.

So me including her photos in the story was a reflection of what she was doing to these men: outing them to loved ones. My act served as a cooperative component to Úmi’s personal expansion.

Multi-layered beneficial expansion

In a crude sense, she got a taste of her own medicine. Me exposing her the way I did served her. But it also served me in the way I described throughout this post, with cooperative components simultaneously showing beliefs in me I must release. I must release them to move forward in my process. In the same way, Úmi must release stories holding her back. Or face increasingly intense experiences until she eventually does release them.

Nothing goes wrong in life. It all serves, moving all of us into greater levels of appreciation and love, especially self-love. Along the way, if we’re aware, we can deliberately shape the process. And in shaping it, we can experience joyful, fulfilling lives. Lives, again, where desires fulfill themselves with little effort on our parts.

So this entire experience was one of profound movement through stories I had. Stories whose time was up. Stories I was ready to release. The experince was totally consistent with many other experiences happening these days.

Looking back, I appreciate everything that happened. Especially the trans woman who commented on the story. I even appreciate Úmi, the woman who terrorized those men, their wives and families.

I equally appreciate the Medium legal team member, who, at the end suggested I could repost the story and just leave out the part that targets the woman.

Good idea. I think I’ll do that.

Now, as promised, here’s Medium’s response email, followed by my and their replies.

[thelifeoflorna]

~4/1/2022~ Today has felt a bit overwhelming and frazzling, but better than yesterday. I had an earlier start with work as had supervision at 9 am, then straight into another meeting - peer mentoring - where we made a plan to get me back into attending peer support network groups as that has become a key source of anxiety since the structure of the groups has changed. Had team meeting. Then would have had a meeting with a presentation on trauma informed care, which I was really interested in, but it was cancelled :/ - it is running tomorrow but it’s my non working day and not at an easy time for me to still be able to attend - I’ve asked if the presentation can be recorded - hopefully it can. Was then reminded of a governor related meeting at the same time tomorrow (it’s really annoying as they don’t send calendar invites so meeting details are all on separate emails and I struggle to keep track of it) - feel bad about not being able to attend it again, so am going to try to write down some notes tomorrow morning and send them ahead of the meeting. I went out around lunch time - devastated to discover Greggs was shut due to needing extensive emergency plumbing work :( Went to subway instead - though never really know what to order there. Had a walk through the park to Costa, where I was keen to make the most of the Terrys Chocolate Orange Hot Chocolate still being available, as will miss it when it’s gone. Had brought my laptop with me to some work - did the Oliver McGowan Autism and Learning Disability Training - I was somewhat more prepared than others for the more hard hitting introductory sections as I has seen the training being developed so was familiar with the story and the content. Have to say the training was excellent, and I really hope it makes a difference to how health and social care services treat autistic people and people with learning disabilities. Weird thing that happened was that while I was watching it we realised our year 6 primary school teacher was sitting across from us in Costa (hadn’t seen her since back then) - she looked exactly the same (despite 20 years passing)- whereas I most likely looked unrecognisable! (Continued..) (at Bodiam Castle) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnAtPKVq16AiT4my8X3ArXBvJDjldm_LR0Zl8o0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[dreamitschemeit]

The New Girl//Sebastian Stan x F!Reader, Pt. 1

Summary: Y/N is a new face among the Marvel Cast with only a few projects under her belt. She used to dream of making it big, but she’s fearing she bit off more than she could chew. Sebastian understands exactly how she feels. 

Warnings: Mentions of mental health, mentions of mj use, alcohol use, nicotine use, 18+ only

You could barely hold in your excitement as you read the email. When you auditioned the idea of actually landing the role was nowhere in your sphere. It was all fun and games; you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take after all. When you picked up the script, not a single thing ran through your mind. It was thrilling, especially with the part you were to play. 

The character is Amy Stark, Tony’s estranged younger cousin. There wasn’t a substance that could take her down, but she wasn’t very open about her emotions. A background in boxing and psychology were the things you knew you would nail right off the bat, but you were nervous to meet Robert Downey Jr. He would have fantastic insights into emotional themes and such, but you were quite frankly quaking in your boots. 

Shooting was the least terrifying in the long run, although in the moment you would have disagreed. You were to play a small part in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, nothing too extensive yet. Don Cheadle showed you the ropes, the bones of what you were walking into. He didn’t sugarcoat the toll it would take on you, but he had great tips for keeping your head over water. Rhodey was Amy’s connection to the universe, and Don was your connection to the team. 

You made quick friends with Anthony Mackie. Most of your time was spent next to the coffee, and it became an ongoing joke. In many interviews Mackie insisted you were “50% coffee, 50% silent stares”. Not once did you argue. It took a while before you actually had a conversation with Sebastian Stan, but once you did the fun never ended. 

Most of the press was done with the three of you at first. You became a trio after that. Then they began to alternate, and the internet went wild over you and Sebastian. A multitude of quips and innuendos went viral. Buzzfeed asked the right, well the wrong questions, but you couldn’t deny the feelings that would rise in your chest when he smiled at you. 

Smoking a blunt with Mackie did a number on your excuses. The whole time you wondered if he had this conversation with Seb. Finally, he asked a pointed question. 

“Is there a reason you refuse to get wasted with us Saturday,” Anthony asked as he passed you the blunt. 

His raised eyebrows made you roll your eyes, but you had no idea how to answer safely. How were you supposed to say ‘If I get drunk with him I’m going to try to jump his bones’ without saying that? There was no way in hell you could get out of this without lying. So that’s what you did.

“I have a gaming day planned with my cousin, but maybe next week?”

His stare told you he didn’t believe you, but you kept contact anyway. You were an actress after all, maybe it was your anxiety projecting?

“Girl, if y’all don’t talk about it soon it’s never going to end, that’s the last thing I’m saying on it tonight,” he huffed, putting out the roach. 

You weren’t projecting. Great. 

A disgruntled sigh left your lips. He was right. It’s going to be an endless loop of pining if you weren’t honest. Mackie watched your face as you came to this realization, and he knew he did his job well. Sebastian had insisted it was one sided, so Anthony decided to do some digging. Now that the seeds were planted, all he had to do was sit back and watch. Nothing made being honest easier than shots. 

Saturday night was terrifying as Mackie insisted on rounds of tequila shots. It was like he knew how to get you talking, and it made you want to scream. As you clinked your glasses together, hit them on the table, and downed them without a sound, a heat began to settle in your core. With each glance you and Seb shared it was harder and harder not to just say it. Don and Anthony left for the bar, leaving the two of you alone at the table. The tension was thick, but you refused to believe it was anything other than your mind playing games. 

“You want a smoke,” Seb asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“God yes,” you answered, a strange sense of relief filling you. 

You followed him out back. It was a nice, secluded corner so you would be safe from the prying eyes of the public. The interaction was mostly a blur. He lit your cig, you laughed a lot, he smiled at you, nothing else really registered in your drunken brain. When it was time to go back, something inside of you got tired of your meekness. Grabbing his wrist, you looked up into his eyes. 

“Did Mackie talk to you?”

That made him shiver. Yes he did, but he was stubbornly refusing to believe anything would come of it. Even now he assumed you were telling him there was nothing there. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, looking down at you. It was only the two of you now, the tequila blocking out the surrounding world. 

A beat of silence passed between you before stood on the tips of your toes. 

“Can I kiss you?” “Absolutely.”

[shina913]

Scale, Part 2 | KSJ

Scale, Part 2

Definition: A beam that is supported freely in the center and has two pans of equal weight suspended from its ends; Something graduated especially when used as a measure or rule: such as (a) an indication of the relationship between the distances on a map and the corresponding actual distances; (b) a series of marks or points at known intervals used to measure distances; A graduated series or scheme of rank; A means of ascent

✮ ✮ ✮ Scale Masterlist ✮ ✮ ✮

Pairing: KSJ x fem!reader; appearances by OT7

Rating: Mature content (21+)

Genre: Rich boy!AU; CEO!AU; strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut (eventual)

Count: 6.6K+ words

Warnings: socioeconomic imbalance; character physical disability; cussing; office banter; light fluff; angst; pining (mostly from Jin); arranged marriage; slow burn; Namjoon drives here (it's integral to the story)

Summary: Kim Seokjin lives in a world where money is no object as he is the heir to his family's lucrative company; OC is a scrappy go-getter who has to work hard at multiple jobs to meet her financial obligations. When their paths cross, they'll have to figure out whether they can find a balance point between themselves and their lives.

A/N: Jin's sister makes her first appearance! A couple of flashbacks also occur here and I tried to indicate that using subheadings. Still bit of a slow-burn at this stage but I may decide to ramp things up on Part 3 so, stay tuned.

As always: ❤️, comment, reblog, or send me an ask 📩. Would love to know what readers think! Thank you sooo much for reading!

“Miss Kim, here’s the final draft of the press release with your changes implemented. Would you like to take another look?”

She took a quick glance at the intern with the query. “No, thank you. I already looked at them over email. Go ahead and send it to my dad for approval and let him know that I signed off on it.”

“Will do, Miss Kim–”

She gave the intern a look.

“I mean–Haejin,” she chuckled nervously while she corrected herself.

She smiled warmly at her and gave her a wink. “You’ll get used to it eventually.”

With a bow, the intern walked out of the office.

Kim Haejin was Director of Communications at KimCorp. She started out as an intern at a news agency and gained enough experience to join the editorial team there. It was then that her dad came calling and wooed her into taking a position at the Communications and PR department.

She rose up the ranks through sheer hard work and perseverance–earning respect from her peers. Although she now called the shots in her department, she still wanted to foster an equal-opportunity environment.

One of her ‘rules’ was that everyone be on a first-name basis within her team. Her brother said that you didn’t need to be addressed as ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ to be shown respect.

Shortly after her intern leaves, her desk phone rings. She glanced at the caller ID and the extension indicated that it was her assistant.

“Yes,” she picked up.

“Hi Haejin, I was just informed that your dress for the gala is ready for a final fitting.”

“Oh, perfect! Any chance that they mentioned my brother’s tux?”

“I didn’t think to ask. Would you like me to call them back,” he asked.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll assume that it’s ready as well since the event is coming up soon. I’ll just check with my brother directly. Thank you, Ken.”

She hangs up and checks her calendar quickly. She sees that her next meeting isn’t for another 15 minutes so she decides to give him a quick call.

“What?” He deadpanned on the other end.

“Always so excited to talk to me,” she remarked sarcastically.

Jin turns his attention away from his screen for a moment. “Sorry, sis. I was just looking at reports—it’s not you. Everything okay?”

“Yes, oppa. Just wanted to check whether you got a call about your tux yet.”

“I think so? My assistant mentioned something earlier.”

“Okay, good because they just told me that my dress was ready for a final fitting. Any chance you want to meet up and check them out together after work? And…maybe we can have dinner, too?”

She sounded like she was pleading on that last question but she just missed him. She also knew that he had a tough week previously and wanted to cheer him up in person.

“Uh…yeah, sure. Just text me to let me know what time you’re headed out. Do you want to pick the restaurant?”

“I was thinking more like…dinner at my place? I can order takeout and we can just take it easy.”

Jin would have loved for her to join his company but at the time, he hadn’t quite established the structure yet. During his company’s infancy, she became quite successful at the news agency so he didn’t feel right pulling her away from something that she was passionate about.

“Sounds good. I can bring stuff too, so you won’t have to go through the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, oppa. I don’t mind.” She glances at her screen and a meeting reminder pops up.

“Anyway, I gotta run to a meeting now but text me what you feel like eating, okay?”

“Alright. See you later, Haejin. Bye.”

Just then, he looks up to see Jungkook lingering by the doorway.

“Jungkook!”

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, come on in. I just went over the reports. We’re looking good!” Jin was really impressed with his dongsaeng’s hard work. He took a huge leap of faith and now he was seeing it pay off a hundred-fold.

Jungkook took a couple strides towards Jin’s desk.

“Thanks. Dae worked on the majority of the report from the last few days and his team ran the analysis. We’re expected to hold steady ‘til the end of the month.”

Chung Dae was Jin’s Chief Financial Officer. He was a college buddy of Jin's and an early investor in his company. Needless to say, the company’s financial success was not just his responsibility but it was a main priority because of his stake in it.

“And if I may say boldly–there’s no way the stock value drops until the end of the year...or the first quarter of next year,” he finished proudly.

Jin marveled at that. It was certainly a tough two and a half years and the work seemed endless but everyone on his team kept at it. At some point, he was hemorrhaging money–regret and self-doubt slowly consumed him. But he couldn’t give up, not when he had the best team rallying behind him…everyone had so many great ideas and made it happen. And now, they were turning a profit. It truly was a team effort.

“That’s what I like to hear. Remind me to give everyone well-deserved raises by the end of the year.”

Jungkook nodded in agreement. “Was that Haejin on the phone earlier,” he asked casually.

Jin looked up from his screen again. “Yeah. Why?”

“Uhm, nothing…Just wondering. Anyway, did you, uh–want to go for happy hour later? A few of us were thinking of celebrating.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wish I could but she got you beat by a couple minutes. I’m meeting her for dinner tonight. Raincheck?”

“Ah - no worries, hyung. Just let me know when you’re free again.”

Jungkook stood there and fidgeted as if he had something else to say.

“Was there anything else, Jungkook-ah?”

He shook his head. “You know what? I lost my train of thought. I’ll let you know when it comes back to me.”

Jin chuckled. “I told you–take it easy on the caffeine. It’s going to fry your valuable brain cells.”

Jungkook gives him a tight smile and exits the office.

“Strange kid,” Jin mumbled to himself.

************

After sticking around for Haejin’s final fitting later that day, she rewarded her brother’s patience with platters of sashimi and handrolls.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, oppa. I didn’t realize that the final fitting entailed a couple more intricate details and would take that long,” she said apologetically.

“Trust me, I didn’t mind every minute,” Jin said while he took a bite out of his negihama handroll. It was the perfect excuse for him not to see Miya tonight.

After some more conversation about the upcoming gala next weekend, she decides to dive right in.

“So–are you doing alright?” She meant well. But to Jin, it was a completely loaded question but he wasn’t about to snap at his little sister.

“I’m…doing better, I think?” He couldn’t hide from her, not when they always looked out for each other.

“You can always talk to me, you know? And I wouldn’t give you crap for it,” she said, picking at her chirashi bowl.

“I know. I…” He struggled to find the words. He kept trying to think logically. He’s had a good week—company stock prices are at an all-time high coupled with a successful app launch…what is there to mope about?

“I hated looking at those photos and thinking that it should have been me. I should have been happy—with her.”

“Oh, Jin…”

“And I just want to bang my head against the wall because–all of these things? The success that I have now? It feels so empty without anybody to share it with.” He took a large sip of wine--almost a gulp, hoping the acidity would rinse off the bitter taste in his mouth.

“I asked too much of her…and I just took and took. Until she had nothing else left to give.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself if she couldn’t handle your life.”

“Shouldn’t I though? I—made sure she had everything. I tried to keep her close but there were just so many moving parts demanding my attention. I thought she would understand but…I’ve made a critical mistake.”

Right then, Haejin put her chopsticks down and turned her full attention to her big brother.

“She knew that this company was important to you. You laid things out for her before the whole process started. She had the choice to leave early on but she stayed. Now, all of a sudden, she decides that it was too much?”

“I think she had an idea in her head until everything just played out. She grew tired of it–the travel, my absence. It was just…” he shook his head, “Not realistic for her to stay and quote, wait for a ghost, is what she said.”

She scoffed. “What does she expect? For you to give up everything that you worked hard for?”

Jin grimaced. “Maybe I should have.”

“No, oppa. You can’t think like that. This company is your dream and you made it happen. Unfortunately, you can’t just move heaven and earth without consequences.”

“I would have given her the sun, if I could.”

“Well…can’t do that without getting burnt,” she looked at her brother pointedly.

When Haejin was born, four-year old Jin stood by her bassinet as she cried her lungs out. While his mom warmed up a bottle for her, he stood on his toes to get a better look and tried to shush her. Her little, chubby arms were flailing about. He tried again, louder this time.

To his surprise, she stopped to look at him. He slowly reached in and she clutched his finger with her little hand and cooed.

Right then, he made a silent promise to be her protector. He wanted to be the first person to comfort her if she was hurt or in pain. He didn’t realize that as they grew up, she made the same promise.

She hated that he beat himself up like this. Yes, he was ambitious, and yes, he had dreams for himself. But any success that he came across, he always shared it with the people that helped him get there.

It always came down to respect, he once told her. This was something that they learned from their mother. You can walk into a room, get a once-over from people who think that they have you all figured out…until you surprise them.

Always treat people with respect and if they return the favor? Then everything else was background noise.

Anybody who hurt or disrespected her brother did not deserve his love.

************

Jin wakes up to the sound of his alarm blaring at 5AM. He sits up to mute it and slowly rubs his eyes.

Did he really just get in less than two hours ago? He knew he would pay for it today but at least it was a weekend and he didn’t have to come to the office.

He scrolls through some emails–nothing urgent. It looks like Jungkook took care of most of it already. He decides to shoot him a text.

[Jin] 5:01AM: It’s Saturday. Some things can sit ‘til Monday. Live a little!

He swings his legs over the side of his bed. After a brief stretch, he gets up to go to his en suite bathroom.

As soon as he’s done with his morning routine, he picks up his phone to see Jungkook’s response.

[Jungkook] 5:10AM: I am, hyungnim. It was just a couple of emails. Going back to sleep for the rest of the day now.

With a chuckle, he makes his way down to his kitchen to get some caffeine in his system. He was always on Jungkook for consuming too much of it at the office and yet here he was, not practicing what he preached. To be fair, his brain currently screamed for it. It would also come in handy for today’s Kim Namjoon inquisition.

During the week, he had a housekeeper come in a few days at a time. She would cook and occasionally tidy up. Although Jin could afford to dine out for every meal, he preferred home cooking. On the weekends, he made breakfast for himself if he didn’t have any appointments or guests to entertain.

While he sipped on his espresso and took a bite out of his kimchi pancake, he thinks back to last night–or, earlier this morning, rather.

*F L A S H B A C K*

After dinner at Haejin’s condo in the city, he decided to make another detour.

The night before, he surprised you by ordering a short stack of pancakes. But service was a bit hectic since there was a sporting event that just got out and the diner was packed. You didn’t get a chance to check in with him as much.

Tonight, he arrived about an hour before closing time. Service was slowing down so you sat across from him, the neon ‘open’ sign hung on the window, with one of the bulbs subtly flickering above your head.

You propped your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your palm. “So what do you do when you’re not lurking at diners late at night?”

“I, uhh…crunch numbers for a living.”

You paused to wait if he was going to divulge more.

When he didn’t add anything else, you asked, “Is that it?”

He shrugs. “That’s it.” He was really living up to the mystery.

“What’s with the cloak and dagger?”

“What is up with your fascination with murder metaphors or narratives?”

You giggled. “I spend whatever free time that I have watching murder-mysteries or true-crime documentaries on TV.”

“That’s…very grim,” he says with an apprehensive look.

“It’s a distraction. Keeps my mind off things.”

He scoffs. “Some people like watching sports or cooking shows…”

“Right, but there’s always a true-crime documentary at all hours of the day. And I have no interest in sports.”

He nodded.

You thought to pry a little further. “So how long do you crunch numbers each day? Do you work set hours?”

He laced his fingers together, rested his hands on the table and leaned in. “I try to keep to a regular schedule but sometimes, that’s not possible and I have to stay a little later to fix things. But I don’t want to bore you with the details of my work. It’s really not all that interesting.”

“Okay…”

He switches tact. “What about you? Do you work here all day?”

Something about his proximity–suddenly made this booth narrower than it actually was. You leaned back a little.

“No. This is my second job. I work as an administrative assistant during the day then come here afterwards to make some extra money.”

“I see. Does your day job not pay enough?”

“It does to an extent but since I’m the breadwinner of the household, I have to do whatever I can.”

“Interesting. Do you have any siblings? What about your parents? Are they retired?”

“My mom died years ago. It’s just me and my dad. And no, he’s not retired. He’s been placed on permanent disability.”

The look in his eyes turned somber. “Oh. I’m…so sorry to hear that. About your mom and dad.” He wanted to probe further but decided that might be a topic for another time.

You shrugged. “Thank you. I don’t say it for people to take pity on me. It’s just a fact…just like how you crunch numbers for a living.”

“You seem to have a positive attitude...all things considered.”

You hummed. “I guess. I just feel that being sad about it doesn’t really help the situation. You can either bitch about it all day or just keep moving on. Otherwise, you get left behind.”

He nodded in agreement. “Wise words. I must say, that’s something that I find myself struggling with recently—moving on.”

That piqued your interest. “And why’s that?”

“I hate change,” he uttered with a slight hint of bitterness.

“Don’t we all?”

“Hmm…sure. When you get used to something, you feel like it’s just going to be there all the time…until it isn’t.”

You blew out a shallow breath. “I feel the same…especially about—my life in general. Are there things I’d like to change? Of course, I would. But I don’t have that luxury so I work with what I have and I appreciate it for what it is…because in an instant, it can all just,” you waved your hand up vaguely mid-air, “…disappear.”

“Huh,” he scoffed.

You scrunch your face. “Did I get too deep?”

He shook his head gently then leaned back against the booth. “Not at all. I like your perspective. I’m in a position at my job where I have to always be aware of any change that happens…no matter how minuscule because it could have massive repercussions.

Then he swallowed harshly. “But–however good I was at catching every pulse, every tick of that gauge at work…that skill didn’t translate in my real life. And I paid for it.”

You weren’t sure whether to feel sorry for him but you felt…sad for him. You wondered what or who would do such a number on him.

His laugh from a couple of nights ago sounded like it had been sitting in the back of his throat for a while…just waiting to be unleashed.

“Did I get too deep,” he smiled ruefully.

You shook your head at this and gave him a small smile.

He continued. “I agree with your point…we just have to work with what we have and not put too much value on things…or people—who won’t be present in the long-term.”

“That seems very rigid of you…”

“As a numbers guy, that’s all you can really rely on, right?”

“But numbers could be open for interpretation. Things can evolve over time…outside factors have to be considered. A trend can always change and tip the scales.”

“Are you sure you don’t work for a rival firm,” he quipped.

You laughed. “I just have a bit of experience with numbers. At my other job, I mean.”

“Ahh…I see. Maybe you should come work for me?”

You knitted your eyebrows. “For you?”

Jin caught himself a bit late. “I mean, with me. At the company.”

“Oh? Are you hiring college dropouts?”

He pursed his lips. “How far away from a degree are you?”

You clicked your teeth then sighed. “A year too far, I’m afraid. I don’t have enough money saved to finish it nor do I have the time.”

“I’m sure we can find a scholarship, financial aid or—“

You gently waved your hands in front of you to stop him. “Jin…Jin, it’s fine. I’m seriously not looking into that right now. In the future, maybe but—“ You purse your lips and shake your head.

“Well…if you ever change your mind, just know that you have a friend on the inside.”

You threw your head back slightly in surprise. “A friend, huh?”

He shrugged his shoulders, not seeing a problem with the term. “What? Don’t you think that we’ve crossed that threshold after this conversation?”

You raised your eyebrows in skepticism. “I’ve had similar conversations with customers here and they have never considered that as a friendship.”

“And why not?”

“Because they come in, sit for an hour or so…we talk then they get up and leave—never to be seen again.”

“Okay well, I’ve been here for a week—“

You chuckled lightly. “Right and this is the first conversation that we’ve had. I’ve had countless conversations with repeat customers, too but I still wouldn’t categorize those as friendships.”

“So what would make you consider it as a friendship then? I’m having an honest conversation with you right this moment…aaand not to mention that I’ve been a repeat customer here already—“

You cut his argument off. “Okay, first of all—the way I see it, friends see each other outside of the confines of this diner to hang out—”

“Are you asking me out?” He said cockily.

Heat rises to your cheeks as his question takes you by surprise. You scoffed to brush away the embarrassment. “What? No!”

You were grateful for the red and blue lights reflecting off your face because you were definitely flushed.

“Alright, just checking.” There it was again…that boyish grin.

You sighed. “Fine. So let’s say that this was the beginnings of a friendship—“

“Then let’s stop right there. That’s it. It’s a friendship. Period. What do you say, friend?” He extended his hand across the table toward you.

You chuckled and put your hand in his to shake it. “You’re pretty pushy, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t be good at my job if I wasn’t,” he said smugly.

“Okay, well…friends at least have each other’s phone numbers.”

“Mm-hmm. Now who’s being pushy?”

You roll your eyes and he laughs.

*E N D F L A S H B A C K*

************

Jin spots Namjoon’s car in the lot when he arrives at the marina.

It was a few minutes before sunrise and the waters were calm. For once, the weather app was actually accurate today.

As Jin shuts off his engine and gets out of his car, Namjoon steps out to greet him with a hug.

“Thanks for coming out,” Jin said.

He smirked. “You know, you’re the only other person not named Ji-yun that I’d get up at dawn for.”

“Sorry I’m late. Had a bit of a long night,” he said hoarsely. He then walked towards his trunk to retrieve a couple of fishing poles, a net, and a large tackle box. After he sets those down on the ground, he drags a cooler out.

“Long night? With Miya?”

Jin scoffed and made a sour face. “Definitely not.”

“Well…luckily, we have all the time this morning to unpack all that.”

It was just as he predicted.

“By the way, Ji-yun made some lunch for us,” Namjoon says, presenting his own mid-sized cooler that he unloaded from his car.

“You definitely hit the jackpot when you married her. What did she see in you again?” Jin cocked his head in mockery, teasing his best friend as he shut his trunk.

Namjoon moves to pick up the tackle box and the fishing poles.

“I see what you’re trying to do, bro. But this day isn’t about me. Good effort, though,” Namjoon chuckles while they make their way to the docks where Jin’s boat is anchored.

************

A few miles out from the marina, the two men set their fishing poles overboard and wait for any signs of tugging on their lines.

Jin rubs his eyes and yawns for the Nth time while he takes a seat and gulps down a few more sips of coffee from his large thermos.

Namjoon eyed his friend. “We could have just rescheduled if you preferred to sleep in today.”

“And have you stew on your twenty questions for another week? I’d rather get it over with.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Fine, then. How are you?”

“I’m excellent,” Jin said sarcastically, pushing his bucket hat further down his eye-line and leaning his head back against his arms.

“You know there’s no other way out for you. You want to catch this tuna so badly so you have no choice but to sit on this boat and talk to me.”

“I can always just dive in and swim away with them. It took you eons to earn that driver’s license so there’s no fucking way that you can figure out how to operate this boat in one day,” he said wryly.

Namjoon chuckled lightly. But Jin was right–no matter how smart he was, he would not be able to figure out how to navigate back to shore.

Jin groaned and sat upright to look at his friend. “What do you expect me to say, Namjoon-ah? I’m fucking crushed that she actually went through with it.”

“What gave you the impression that she wasn’t going to?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling a headache coming. “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe I thought there was still something after I left her that message.”

“That was a dumb move, even by your standards,” Namjoon said, checking the line.

There was no arguing with him on that. Jin knew that Ari’s wedding date was approaching and he still called her two weeks before. It was a desperate move on his part. But the fact that she met up with him gave him hope…for one fleeting moment.

“I guess…with the company set to go public, the app launch—I wanted to let her know that I had more free time now.”

Namjoon sighed heavily. He knew what it was like to be preoccupied with a career and a business…what it was like to barely have time for a social life–which was why he was extremely lucky to find Ji-yun–albeit through a matchmaker. She knew the deal. She knew what it was like and what to expect.

What caught Namjoon off-guard was that he fell absolutely in love with her. She didn’t give him an ultimatum–she didn’t have to. He just chose her.

Jin had the luxury to make a similar choice as well but instead, he was determined to see his company through. It was a startup and he didn’t want it to fail. Because if he failed, he knew that he would let Jungkook and a whole army of people behind him down.

But in making that choice, in the end, he couldn’t negotiate his way into Ari staying through all of that.

“Her best friend. How fucking cliché is that,” Jin spit out bitterly.

Namjoon shrugged. “The right person at the wrong time is still the wrong person.”

“Huh?”

“Just saying. Even if you felt that Ari was the one for you, maybe she wasn’t actually meant for you.”

“And you think Miya is?” He let out a humorless laugh.

“Not saying either or. It’s never that easy. Maybe you didn’t choose Ari for a reason. Maybe somebody else unexpected is meant for you.”

Miya was surely unexpected but he wasn’t even drawn to her.

He looked out into the open water, holding his thermos up to his nose and pondered. He takes a whiff of the warm coffee and has faint visions of flickering neon lights while he watches the fog lift off the bay’s surface.

************

You deposit a few quarters into the machine then push the button to start. As you hear the water rush in, memories from the other evening flood your thoughts as well.

*F L A S H B A C K*

“You really didn’t have to drive me home.”

“Too late now–unless you want me to drive back and you can walk the whole way?”

You laughed. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble at all.”

“At least you can sleep in a bit tomorrow.” You said it, unsure whether it was a consolation.

He hummed. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah but I don’t have to come in ‘til noon so–I get to sleep in, somewhat…until I have to do laundry.” You groaned inwardly.

“And Sunday is your only day off?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. It’s all I need, really.”

“No sleep for the wicked, huh,” he said with a small smile.

You scoffed. “Sleep is for the weak. Us peasants need to earn our rest.”

You started to gather your things and sling your purse strap over your shoulders, preparing to exit his car.

“Thank you,” he uttered.

You stopped to turn back and look at him. “For what?”

“For listening.”

You gave him a small smile. “That’s what friends do, right?”

You step out of the car then shut the door. He rolls the window down and calls out to you. “Goodnight, YN.”

You turned back from the front steps leading up to your building and cocked your head to the side. “Good morning...Jin.”

*E N D F L A S H B A C K*

“Good to see you here.”

You turn to see your neighbor, Taehyung setting down his own laundry hamper by the washing machine in front of you.

You greeted him with a smile. He had a sweet, boyish look with his bare face and mussed up hair. He worked as a bike messenger during the day and picked up odd jobs during the weekend. Jobs in which sometimes, he needed dog sitting assistance–and your dad was always happy to oblige.

“Please thank your dad for taking Tannie again. I really appreciate it. Somebody called out and—“

“Of course! No need to explain. You know he loves the little furball. He’s practically the baby brother I never had.”

He chuckled at that. Your dad had a fondness for Yeontan. He took to him right away. Some afternoons, you’d get home in-between jobs and see them asleep on the couch together–Tannie snoring contently on your dad’s lap.

“So uh—I got a gig next weekend.”

“Really? What’s the event?”

“Some philanthropic gala. Canapes, open bar, four-course dinner at $10,000 a plate.”

“Sheesh!” Your eyes bulged.

“Yeah. The mayor and some other politicians will be there.”

It’s amazing how much money some people will throw just to rub elbows with the rich and powerful.

“Anyway, I managed to swipe one of two bartender posts. It won’t pay as much but I figured I’d make a killing on tips.”

“Nice.”

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t score you a spot,” he said apologetically. He tried to rope you into his weekend gigs because they tend to pay good at only a few hours of work.

“Oh gosh, Tae—it’s not a big deal, really. I just appreciate you always looking out for me.”

“Yeah…the event is relatively small which is why they didn’t need as many people. I promise I’ll keep an eye out again,” he dug through his pocket for coins then started putting them in the slot.

He continued while he unloads his hamper. “This one place that I delivered to last week hinted at another event–some gallery exhibit. I’m trying to get the scoop on that because it’s a good chance for me to make some connections.”

Taehyung had an art degree. He moved to the city in hopes of making it big but he’s been met with one setback after another. Since then, he’s also been struggling to make ends meet.

Lucky for him, he was a social butterfly. His bike messenger job gets him access to some important people around the city. He makes smalltalk with the front desk staff and executive assistants which turn into some valuable connections.

He just hasn’t found the right one that would give him a shot at his dream.

“Safe to say I might need your dad to watch Tannie next weekend again,” he said with a grimace.

“I’m sure he’d be more than happy to.”

He gives you a boxy smile in gratitude. “Hey, let me know if you need to borrow my car again. I’m so glad that your friend Yoongi checked it out for me. It would have cost me a fortune if I took it into a shop.”

“Oh good! I’m glad you guys got connected. Uhm–I might need it at some point. Dad’s leg is getting worse again, I think. I’ll let you know right away if I need to take him to the doctor.”

“Okay. It’s no trouble at all, YN. I can take him, too, if you have to work. Just give me a heads up.”

You didn’t know what you’d do without Taehyung. He cared for your dad just like his own since his family lived far away.

“Thanks, Tae. I really, really appreciate that.”

************

It was an unusually quiet Sunday for Jin. Normally, he would be receiving reports from international partners before he’s had his breakfast.

Miya left him a voicemail. He was browsing through his phone when her call came up on his screen. Instead of answering it, he put the ringer on mute.

She asked if he had any plans for brunch and if he wanted to meet up at the Country Club and play some tennis or just hang out.

He didn’t tell her that he had just been there with Namjoon the day before for lunch so he lied and made up some excuse about needing to prepare for a quarterly review tomorrow.

Suddenly, a husky voice booming from his TV screen captures his attention.

The so-called Night Stalker has terrorized the city. The same man is suspected in six to eight murders and 25 to 30 attacks…

The pressure was on to stop the madman that was doing all this…

It’s the only time in my entire life that I slept with a gun…

You could sense it…there’s evil in that man.

He chuckles at the TV’s title card and shakes his head at how ridiculously dramatic the show’s teaser was.

Before he knew it, he was scrolling through his phone contacts to make a call.

The line trills twice and the other end picks up.

“Hey. Are you uh…busy today? I wondered if you… maybe wanted to go get some lunch? I can come get you.”

*******

Jin showed up in front of your building wearing a black, hooded sweatshirt and faded jeans. Far from his usual suit and tie getup that screamed “finance guy” on those nights at the diner.

You were apprehensive when he called you this morning because on Sundays, you ran errands with your dad. A little walk in the park (well, you pushed him in his wheelchair while you walked) and a quick trip to the corner bakery after lunch at the coffee shop down the street followed by grocery shopping before heading home.

But he overheard you turning down a lunch invite on the phone and waved you off saying that none of those places were going anywhere. You still had some groceries and leftovers to last you a few more days. If all else failed, he could always call for food to be delivered.

He told you to live a little and not feel guilty about taking some time to yourself.

“I feel like some samgyeopsal,” he announced as soon as you got into the passenger seat.

“Are you cool with that?”

You just got an idea. “Oh, I know the perfect spot!”

“Alright, just tell me where.”

After a few minutes, you and Jin pull up to a hole-in-the-wall place that you and Jimin would hang out at when you weren’t working at the diner. They had delicious food and cheap drinks.

The first time that he took you here a couple years ago, you had an especially trying week. Your direct supervisor at your day job was exceptionally bitchy at you–which she later got fired for. And your dad also had a health scare, which kept him at the hospital for a couple days of monitoring.

You all but collapsed at the diner from exhaustion when Jimin offered to take you out for a meal–insisting that it was not a date. He just wanted to cheer you up.

“Wow - they have every kind of kimchi here,” Jin exclaimed while he read the menu.

“And it’s all made in-house,” you added proudly.

“I’m impressed,” he said while he explored the restaurant’s offerings further.

You place your orders and make small talk until the server brings your sides and meats for cooking.

“I have to say, it’s nice to see you in the daylight,” he says unprompted.

You gave him a look. “Why do you say that?”

“You have a slightly different energy to you.”

It was also the first time that he was seeing you wearing something other than your apron-and-diner-uniform ensemble.

Under your jacket, that hung on the back of your chair, you wore a fitted long-sleeved henley and a pair of black leggings and running shoes.

You didn’t work out much (if at all) but with all of the walking and running around that you did from one job site to another? It warranted an investment in quality athletic clothing.

“Trust me, I mean that in a good way,” he assured you.

“Geez, I sincerely hope so,” you chuckle. “Now that you mention it, it’s good to see you during the day as well.”

“Because?”

You gave him a once-over and he suddenly feels insecure. “What?”

“You don’t seem as mysterious anymore.”

He laughs. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Whenever you come by the diner, you’re always so broody.”

He hummed. “I was just having a rough week, that’s all.”

“And…you’re not anymore?”

He gives you an enigmatic smile. “I think that things are starting to look up.”

You returned his smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I feel like, sometimes, all you need is a change in perspective.”

“I completely agree.”

His gaze was already unnerving in the dark…in the daylight, there was just nowhere to hide. “Do you have a busy week ahead?”

You were relieved when he broke eye contact. “Somewhat. Much of the same thing but there’s also a family function that I have to attend on Saturday.”

“Sounds exciting.” This was the first time that he’s brought up his family to you.

He hummed dismissively. “I guess. It’s uhm–just a small gathering with a few friends. Very dry, if you ask me. I’d prefer to be doing something else, honestly.”

“Oh…that’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah but, it’s kind of a big deal for my parents and I don’t want to disappoint them. I’m the eldest child, so…my presence is a necessity.”

You nodded. “I get it. You do what you have to do, right?”

He shrugs.

You pick up a piece of pork to put it on his plate but he stops you.

“Nah, leave it on the heat. I want mine a bit more burnt than that. I want to really crisp up the skin and let that fat render.”

You smirked. “I do, too,” you muttered.

“Is there any other way to eat it?”

You shook your head. “Nope–take your soggy pork skin out of here and leave me to enjoy my crunchy bits!”

He laughed heartily.

For the next couple of hours, you learned that Jin had a younger sister that he was really close to. He was also a huge fan of tongue-twisters and dad jokes–he cracked a couple of them and they made you giggle. You had heard some of them before but his delivery and commitment to the joke was what made you laugh.

He also loved to fish and mentioned that he caught a few tuna yesterday while he was out with his best friend, Namjoon.

He enjoyed napping, playing video games, and experimenting with cooking in his spare time. He seemed to lead a pretty hectic work life but enjoyed little pleasures. He sounded like such a ‘normal’ guy–totally not what you envisioned when he first walked into that diner.

He looked so down-to-earth outside of his suit–which was fitted like an armor that he wore to shield himself from anybody who wanted to get close to him.

As you wrapped up lunch, you fought about who would pay the bill.

He said that he just wanted to pay you back for all that coffee that you served him. You argued that since you picked the place, it was only right that you pick up the tab.

He finally shuts you down by practically throwing his card at the server who took it with a look of exasperation. You caught a quick glimpse of it and saw that it was a black card. He took it back swiftly–as if trying to hide it–when the server returned it to your table for his signature.

You didn’t really think much of it. This was the same guy who tipped you $100 for a $2 coffee. Surely, his job paid him really well.

Soon after, Jin drops you back off at your building but not after stopping by the corner bakery to pick up some steamed pork buns for your dad. Jin picked up a few for himself.

You say your goodbyes and thank him for the meal. In turn, he thanked you for a great time.

You spent the rest of the day exchanging text messages with him–each one bringing a smile to your face.

Your dad, looking over your shoulder, chuckling–pleased to see that his little girl had something to be happy about again.

Part 3◥

Taglist: @deepseavibez @shameless-army @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie [open]

[millerflintstone]

Man, am I glad I quit the old job.

It was confirmed today that it really never mattered how thorough I was on documenting things. The fact that things are so crazy there means that people just don't read shit.

I gave my 2 weeks notice on April 21st. I put together an email on a process the problematic group was wondering about on April 26th. I copied my BA friend and the developer I transferred knowledge to.

No one from a business standpoint met with me to go over things to make sure anything was missed and sure enough, I did miss adding some scripts to the folder I stored stuff in. The process changed from one year to the next so this scripts were never stored in source code control. I honestly thought they would have yet another set of requirements that changed for this yearly process.

When I talked to my BA friend today I asked her to forward that email I sent and when I read it I remembered the script thing. Mind you, had she or the dev re-read the email in detail, they would have known to ask me last week when I talked to them, 'hey where are those scripts you mentioned in this email'?

Oops.

The developer guy was up until 1:30 am last night working on this request because the annoying group created the wrong kind of ticket and it got sent to the wrong group. Things are allegedly due tomorrow. I told my BA friend that at this point they probably have to ask for an extension.

I'm sure my BA friend is stretched thin. It's truly not a way to live. They both thanked me for the additional help though I don't feel I really helped. The dev had a different question and I answered that. I offered one last chat session tomorrow but I'm not sure they'll take me up on it.

In comparison, I have test data to create that's due the last week of June. I have time to learn these code sets, understand the table relationships and truly understand things. There are other people there willing to help me understand too.

It's night and day. I'm so happy I'm not working at that fucking place anymore

[queerbuckleys]

Buddie with animal prompt number 2? With cat dad Eddie and pining Buck, maybe?

See anon- you read my mind, that is precisely the one that caught my interest too :P

for a cat [1.9k | fluff | angst | pining idiots] tw: minor panic attack {ao3} @buddiebingo square: texting prompt: You're obsessed with your cat and when I take care of it while you're gone, I have to send you daily photos and we video-chat; the cat's starting to not be the only one wanting you to come home soon a/n: this got longer and more angsty then originally planned :P title from for a cat by storyman which doesn't really have much to do with the story, but it does actually idk, it was just the first thing i thought of with cat in it. pls ignore my stupid windows emojis.

About a month ago Eddie had found a small cat mewling in the rain under one of the bushes of the front yard. And had instantaneously become the most overprotective and genuinely fantastic cat dad Buck had ever seen.

Sure he saw everything that Eddie did through rose-tinted glasses, falling down the slippery slope into the in love with your best friend pit of despair. But Eddie was quite literally the most overbearing cat dad, and Buck discovered this when Eddie and Chris needed to make a last-minute trip to Texas.

“Are you ever like this with Chris?” Buck asks as he flips through the pages of typed out instructions and guidelines for caring for Noodles,

“Yes? I send an extensive email to anyone he’s going to be spending time with, especially if I’m not around.”Eddie replies stacking cat food cans on the counter, counting them as he goes to make sure Buck will have enough for the week.

“You never sent me any of those emails,” Buck says, nose too buried in the extensive list of daily tasks to notice the bright flush rush across Eddie’s face, “you never asked any of those parents to send a picture twice a day did you?”

Eddie coughs a little before answering, “No. And you’re really fine staying here with her?”

“Yes, Eds. It doesn’t actually change much in terms of my routine to be here instead of the loft.” Buck swallows.

He drops them off at the airport, watches them walk into the terminal, and proceeds to bang his head against the steering wheel.

Noodles was shy and stuck by Eddie like a shadow, not cuddling with anyone else, never incessantly requesting to be fed an hour early by anyone else. She was Eddie’s cat. And that didn’t change over the course of the first day. It was Buck’s days off, so he tried to lounge around the house, watching tv, but felt awkward the entire time. Sure he felt more at home here than at the loft. But that was when Eddie or Chris were here too. Now it feels, just weird. Eddie never mentioned where Buck should sleep, and it feels too weird to use Eddie’s bed without him. And it feels too eerily similar to the tug in his chest he felt just about a year ago. It would probably help if Noodles was anywhere in sight. His reason to be here in front of him and tangible. But she was nowhere to be found. Probably under Eddie’s bed in the nest she had made herself.

He cracks open a can of food while his pizza is in the oven and she doesn’t make an appearance then either. It’s not until he settles on the couch, movie playing softly on the tv, pizza slice halfway in his mouth that she comes creeping out.

They lock eyes briefly before she scampers off into the kitchen.

Buck gingerly steps toward the kitchen, not crossing the threshold to snap a quick picture.

He sends it off to Eddie with the caption, first i’ve seen of her all day.

A few minutes later his phone buzzes Eddie 🚨 loved an image and again she’ll warm up to you.

Buck just sends an eye roll emoji. He types out several messages that sound too close to I miss you, before tossing his phone across the couch and returning his focus to the movie and pizza.

In the morning he opens another can as his coffee gurgles out of the ancient machine resting on Eddie’s counter, And Noodles actually enters the kitchen while he is still in it.

He’s sitting on the couch sipping his coffee, suddenly she is sitting on the other end on the arm, quietly licking her paw.

He takes the picture, sending it off- making progress 🙂

See! Told you.

Buck, are you sleeping on the couch?

Yes?

Eddie doesn’t continue his questions.

That night Buck wakes, still on the couch, sweat on the edges of his brow, and a few tears streaking his face, with a cat standing on his chest.

She meows and then hops down, glancing up at Buck and meows again. When he doesn’t move she continues to stare a meow. And he just wants to go to sleep, maybe it will be less nightmare filled. He hopes at least.

He’s desperate. And Eddie did say call anytime. And it was nearing 6 am in Texas so he could be awake.

Eddie picks up because he always does,

“Buck?”

“She won’t stop meowing at me.” it comes out breathy and rough and he feels ridiculous that he is nearly in tears over this, but it was just the final straw in the stack of being in this house without Eddie, being in love with Eddie, and the nightmares of losing Eddie, because that’s what happens to the people he loves- he loses them.

“Where are you?”

“The couch?”

“She’s telling you to go to bed.”

“I was asleep,” Buck says hesitantly,

“Buck, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just, I had a nightmare and now she won’t-”

Eddie lets out a sigh, and Buck can almost hear his smile,

“She’s inviting into her space, our space. Because she knows. She’s trying to help.” Eddie is trying desperately not to let the obviousness that this is something that happens to him enough that they have established this routine,

“Oh,”

“So will you just sleep in my bed? You’ll sleep better anyway. That couch is murder for more than one night in a row.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry I called.”

“Buck? Don’t be. I missed your voice.”

And Buck’s heart stutters and leaps into his throat,

“Miss yours too.” he chokes out before hanging up.

He gathers his blanket and pillow from the couch, cause it still felt weird to sleep in Eddie’s bed.

Noodles glances up at him before trotting off towards the room, routinely checking that Buck was behind her.

He wakes again with Noodles purring on his chest, and he decides to facetime Eddie this time.

“A facetime call?”

“I thought you might want to hear her purring,” Buck whispers gently stroking between her ears,

“You got the full treatment I see.” Eddie smiles, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, um, I think just a lot of things stacked up on each other. I’ll talk to Dr. Copeland about it.”

“You can talk to me too Buck.”

And Buck swallows because he really can’t, not without making it clear as day that he is in love with Eddie.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I can right now. I have a shift.”

“Hey Chris, do you want to say hi to Buck and Noodles?”

The response comes in the form of a gleeful shriek before Chris’ face enters the frame,

“Hi, Buck! You okay?”

“I miss you, and a little sad. But Noodles is helping and seeing you and your dad makes it better.”

Eddie quirks his brow in the background, clearly confused by the fact the 11 year old got more out of buck in 15 seconds than he did in 2 minutes.

Buck catching his mistake,

“Well I gotta get ready for the day but I’ll call you later!”

He hangs up the phone and groans. Noodles chirps reassuringly,

“Oh we are really in now aren't we noodles,” Buck sighs lifting her up a little so he could carry her to the kitchen.

He sets out the bowl of dry food for while he has a 24 and makes sure her water is full and clean before heading out of the house.

The shift inches by slowly, because there are few calls, but mostly because Eddie isn’t there. And the weight of the nightmare still rests in the back of his head.

Eddie calls him as soon as the shift is over as if sensing that he was making his way towards his jeep.

“Hey, how was your shift?”

“Slow, weird without you.”

Buck can hear the sad smile,

“Sorry. I know those are hard.”

“Hey, at least this time I know it’s temporary.” Buck smiles, trying to make the conversation light so they don’t drift into dangerous waters, at least while he is behind the wheel.

They chat about random things, Chris relays the stories of his adventures with his cousins. And then he’s home. At Eddie’s house.

He switches the callto facetime so Eddie can see that he has kept Noodles alive. Noodles, who is waiting for him on the arm of the couch staring at the door when he makes his way inside.

Once he’s settled on the couch, Eddie clears his throat a little,

“What was going on yesterday morning?” his brow is furrowed and there is a hint of his dad voice,

“I, um, my feelings got all turned around because, uh, well, I am spending time in your house without you, I was sleeping on the couch, and the last time I did that was-”

“Oh, Buck,”

Buck’s breath hitches, “And we’re coming up on a year. So it just all got tangled up. Because when I love someone they leave. And I don’t- I can’t-” His chest feels tight, and he doesn’t even care about the implications of the sentence,

“Hey, Buck, breathe with me. Some of those things are feelings that are completely natural to have in this situation. But those others, it might feel like that, and I understand where that comes from, but it’s not true. Those people who left, it wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t because you loved them. The important people come back, right?”

Buck nods, his breath evening out,

“Now, grab a snack and a Gatorade from the fridge, and then take a nap. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Buck replies voice a little cracked.

Noodles is by his feet throughout the process and immediately cuddles into his side when he lands on the bed, pulling the blanket around him.

“That’s it. Feeling better?” Eddie asks,

Buck hums, his hand buried in Noodles’ body, thumb lightly stroking her chin.

“Okay, I’ll stay on until you’re asleep.”

Buck stirs as he feels the bed dip, his blanket being tucked tighter around him, and fingers running through his hair, quiet whispers of reassurance in his ear,

Noodles meows and he opens his eyes,

“--die? What‘re you doing here?”

“Decided to come back a day early. I didn’t need to be there. Couldn’t be there longer I guess. And I don’t know, being so far away when I knew you were upset, just,” he bites his lip, “knowing that having me here might help even just a little bit? Made the choice so easy.” Eddie brushes a tear off Buck’s cheek that he didn’t even know was there, “Because I love you too.” Eddie continues as if he just hasn’t turned Buck’s life upside down, “I am not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, remember?” Eddie presses a kiss into his hairline,

“You figured that out huh” Buck smiles,

“Figured it out? I mean I guess so. But I thought I was being very obvious. And looking back, I was being obvious before I even figured it out. So…”

“I do, love you, by the way.” Buck smiles,

Noodles plops herself down between them, making it clear that she wanted to be the center of attention.

“Well, she’s adopted you.” Eddie says, “Told you she would warm up.”

“Pretty sure she just likes the attention, but I’ll take it.”

[sukisdeliveryservice]

hello!! could i kindly request for a student campus crush! wonwoo hehe and you’re best friends and have unrequited feelings but u dont know if he feels the same so over a sleepover u tried confessing and you can continue from there hehe -🐼

let me hear you say | j. ww

✎ pairing: best friend!wonwoo x female reader

✎ genre: collegel!au, friends to lovers!au, mostly fluff

✎ warnings: none!

✎ wc: 2.40 k words

✎ notes: hi 🐼 anon! i got a little carried away with this one because soft, cuddly wonwoo makes my stomach do flips but i hope you like it! i'm not sure how i feel about my portrayal of yn here because i wanted them to be really supportive of wonwoo but kind of having a hard time because of their feelings towards him. i hope i was able to express that without portraying them as kind of eh :/

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You take a quick glance at your best friend as he folds up another piece of paper with a phone number written on it.

“Of what?”

“Of everyone in this school falling head over heels for you,” You say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, proceeding to look back down at your notes. In reality, you were trying to prevent yourself from looking at the cute (albeit, confused) way your best friend was staring at you over your abrupt question.

“Well I can’t say I’m not flattered, but there aren’t really that many people yn,”

A total lie, you think to yourself. Every time you two walked around campus, your best friend attracted the adoring stares of all your classmates like some hotshot celebrity. Yes, he was popular, and yes, he totally deserved it, but if everyone knew how dorky he was, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to hand him their number after a single conversation.

Another lie, if everyone knew what a nerd Jeon Wonwoo actually was, they’d probably fall for him harder. You would know of course, first hand experience taught you a lot of things.

It taught you how endearing it was when Wonwoo wore oversized clothing, so that he could pull the sleeves over his palms when sipping on a hot drink at the local campus cafe. It made you realize his habit of pushing his glasses up his nose, because he was too stubborn to get the bridge adjusted. It made your insides melt whenever he was nervous because he had a habit of fiddling with his fingers. You were certain that if anyone was completely head over heels and absolutely smitten by him, it was definitely you.

“Not many people my ass,” you scoffed, “you spoke to her once, just once! And now you are holding her number.” Wonwoo laughs at your poor attempt at hiding your annoyance, “For your information, we were talking about a group project, and exchanging contact information. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

You gave a little huff before going back to pretend-studying, you definitely couldn’t focus when he was sitting right across from you. You knew you were more prone to jumping to conclusions nowadays, and you hoped that Wonwoo didn’t notice your shift in behaviour. In reality, you couldn’t help but feel a little pang of worry whenever your best friend was asked out on another date. And while he rejected the offer every time, you worried that one day he might say yes and you could lose him forever.

Not that you were against Wonwoo falling in love someday. If he found a good person that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, you would support him in a heartbeat. It was just the selfish feeling that blossomed in your chest that prevented you from feeling any true happiness for these kinds of situations, and you hated it.

You knew that he would never abandon you completely, because Wonwoo was the best friend you could ever ask for. But you also knew that it would kill you inside to see him sweep someone else off their feet.

You’ve known Wonwoo since high school, and you definitely harboured a puppy crush on him all of first year. This was back when he was still trading pokemon cards in the gym stairwell and poking at you to buy him something from the milk vending machine. The crush went away eventually and you found yourself enjoying the rest of your high school career with your closest confidant by your side.

Once you both entered university, Wonwoo had a sudden growth spurt that now put him a total head taller than you. He no longer lurked at the stairwells during lunch and instead made lots of new friends that he went out for coffee with. He started dressing nicer, and once he exchanged his old glasses for a pair of round silver ones that rested on his nose so perfectly, he instantly transformed into someone straight out of a kdrama.

Now, you have caught feelings again. And you’re scared to admit that this time a puppy crush doesn’t even encapsulate everything you’ve been feeling lately. Of course Wonwoo’s sudden change in appearance didn’t spark anything new in your feelings towards him. It was the fact that he had a new air around him that was just completely different.

Wonwoo in high school was shy, and you loved him for who he was. You two had your own small circle of friends and you would spend all your time reading or playing games in his bedroom. Wonwoo in college however, was breaking out of his shell and being the first to approach people and make new friends. He was still introverted of course, shyness and introvertedness were two different things after all. But you were proud to see Wonwoo take the initiative to make plans more often and reach out.

Wonwoo has also gotten a lot more comfortable around you. He’s grown fond of resting his head on your shoulder after a long day of classes, and wrapping you in his sweaters whenever you came by his flat. In conclusion, everything about university student Wonwoo, was driving you, (and probably the entire campus) crazy.

“Hello? yn? Don’t you have a class soon?”

You swat away the hand that was waving in front of your face to meet the eyes of the cause of all your heart troubles. One smile from Wonwoo and you were in shambles. You had it really, really bad. “Right, right, sorry I was just...distracted.”

“We’re still on for tonight right? You can just head straight to my dorm after your last class.”

“Of course Won, did you really think I was going to miss out on another rewatch of Extraordinary You?”

“Of course not,” Wonwoo chuckled. You were met with another one of those soft gazes from him, and you immediately tried to break your stare. Something in your heart tells you that you should just confess right now, and that Wonwoo was a sensible individual who wouldn’t let go of your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Hey Won, can I tell you something after class later?”

“Of course.” There was that smile again. If you weren’t so busy trying to slow your heart rate down, you would have caught the way his eyes brightened at hearing your question, and the way he looked down to twindle with his fingers.

You give Wonwoo your own smile before heading off to your last detour of the day.

Sleepovers with Wonwoo always consisted of a mountain of blankets, a never ending pile of snacks and a show to watch before eventually both of you fell asleep. When you arrived at his flat just as he was adding the finishing touches to a home cooked dinner, you realized that sleepovers with Wonwoo also consisted of another thing: Your tragic inability to keep your heart rate down.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit, you can just wash up and get changed for now,” Wonwoo turns to greet you before adding some pepper to the tteokbokki.

You nod and head over to his bathroom, where you already find your change of clothes resting on the counter. Any outsider would have been under the impression that you and Wonwoo lived together, considering that pieces of you were scattered all over his apartment. From the matching toothbrushes that were kept by the sink, to the drawer reserved only for your clothes in his bedroom.

The only reason that you and Wonwoo didn’t room together upon entering university, was the fact that your parents were wary of you rooming with a boy you weren’t even dating. Not that it mattered now, considering that you at least spent two nights at his place away from your own dorm.

After you showered and changed into your pajamas, you realized that Wonwoo had given you one of his sweaters to wear, instead of the usual shirts you slept in. Usually you would have raided his bedroom after dinner to steal one (you slept much better when you wore his clothing) but this time it appeared that he had taken the initiative for you.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw that Wonwoo was already sitting at the dining table and was on his phone. It looked like he was texting someone, and you felt your heart sink a little when he laughed at a message. No, you are not going to be jealous. You are going to be happy for your friend because he deserves all the happiness in the world.

“Is that the girl from your group project?” You sat down across from him and started piling the tteokbokki and rice onto your plate. “Yeah, she said that the professor just sent out a mass email to our class, saying that we were going to be given an extension. Turns out that email was meant for another course, but everyone is already celebrating the new deadline.”

Wonwoo shuts off his phone and turns to you, “Was there something you wanted to tell me today?”

Right. You were going to confess your feelings. It was now or never, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in much longer. “I can just tell you after dinner, I’m starving.”

Tragic. Tragic. Tragic. Why couldn’t you just say the words, “Hey Won, I have feelings for you, do you feel the same way?” Must you be in a spiraling paradox of questioning the presence of unrequited love in the relationship you had with your best friend? Yes, most definitely yes. Since the world likes to make everything difficult for those in love.

Dinner was eaten in a comfortable silence for the most part. You liked that you never felt the need to fill the air with more conversation whenever you were with Wonwoo. There were days where you would just sit in each other’s presence and do your own thing, and those days left you with lots of time to ponder on your feelings for him. Tonight was the night that you were going to say these feelings aloud for the first time...you just needed a bit more time to procrastinate.

After you both finished your food, you relocated yourselves to the couch. You fidgeted with the end of your (his) sweater while Wonwoo searched for the show on Netflix. You figured that you would let him know in the morning, since there was a chance that you two would fall asleep before the episode ended. And you didn’t want to confess beforehand either, in fear of having to endure a brutal one hour of awkward tension if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Who would have thought that out of all the days the wifi could have chosen to bail on us, they chose the day where we were going to find out whether Haru belonged to Dan-oh’s story or not,” Wonwoo fiddles with the remote some more, while you panic in silence at the thought of spending the night with no distractions from your feelings.

“It’s not like we don’t already know how it ends,” You take deep quiet breaths to calm yourself down, you can definitely make it through the night, “We can just do other things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

You couldn’t answer him right away. The only thing you had on your mind was the fact that Wonwoo’s hand was now resting on your knee and that it was baffling how good he could look in pajamas. Wonwoo, sensing your inability to form words nervously glanced up at you before moving the conversation in a different direction, “Look, I know you had something to tell me today yn, but I realized that I wanted to share something with you too. I am in love-”

“I am in love with you Jeon Wonwoo!”

There. You blurted out a long-awaited confession before the anticipation consumed you whole. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hands in fear of seeing the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Let me hear you say it again.”

“What?” You turn to Wonwoo, who no longer looked nervous. Instead, he wore the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to both kiss and strangle him. “Say it again.”

“Not when you look like you just won the lottery you nerd, you didn’t even say-”

“I am in love with you too yn.”

Well, you were never one to complain about the fact that your feelings were returned. But the way Wonwoo was cooing at your adorable expression of shock only made you want to shove him off the couch.

Which you proceeded to do.

“Hey! Aren’t you happy that I like you too?”

“Of course I’m happy! You didn’t have to try to beat me to my confession though, tonight was going to be my night!”

“You didn’t seem like you were going to say anything for the rest of the evening! You were going to wait until the next day weren’t you?”

Absolutely yes. “No!”

Any remaining tension in the atmosphere washed away as you and Wonwoo made fun of each other on the living room floor. You were beyond relieved and a little giddy that your best friend in the whole wide world saw you in the way that you saw him.

“But on a more serious note Won, were you also going to confess tonight too?”

“Actually no, but once you came out of the washroom wearing my sweater, I just had to say it before I tackled you with cuddles or something.”

“You gave me your sweater instead of my clothes to wear!”

“I know!” Wonwoo was holding your hand now and rubbing circles into your palm. The idea of cuddling the entire night didn’t sound so bad. “But you looked all nervous and shy and I was hoping that you were going to be the one to say something first.”

“Can we just agree that we confessed at the same time?” As the adrenaline from the confession began to slip away you suddenly became very tired, and you were hoping to just spend the night in the arms of your favourite person.

“Deal. So can we cuddle now?”

[nightowlfandom]

CEO! Min Yoongi- My Favorite Secretary

Why hello there!

ANON ASKS

Hi! Want to make a nasty petition pls. I want CEO Yoongi but he is so mean and strict with y/n he discharges all his frustrations and stress on her until he gets to fuck with her. I want a hard smut plsss

With these :

3, 15, 21, 60, 66

OOOOH FUN!!! LET’S GET INTO IT I was not too proud of this one...but here you go! Yo this one was LOOONNGGG, like shit. 

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

15- Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby.

21- That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you? Look up at me like I’m your god.

60- I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling.

66- I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

leggo!!

... (Monday)

“You’ll have to redo these reports.” a stack of papers was thrown onto your desk. You stared up at your boss in disbelief. 

“And just what’s wrong with them?” you raised an eyebrow. 

“There are exactly 15 typos in these reports and since I don’t care enough to go through them with you, I want them redone.” 

Min Fucking Yoongi. CEO of Bangtan Enterprises. You of course were a humble secretary who wrote reports on every idol and client that walked through the damn door. 

“I spent hours on those!” you tried to defend. “I already deleted the stupid file to save space on my computer!”

“You have until the end of the week.” he walked away without another word. 

“Sora didn’t even turn in her reports because she stayed up playing fucking Doki Doki Handsome Husband Haven and you gave her an extension!” 

Yoongi didn’t respond as he turned the corner. 

“Are you fucking kidding me.” you seethed. 

... (Thursday Afternoon)

“Y/N!” you heard the horribly scary voice. 

“What now?” you whimpered. You turned around in your chair to see your boss fuming. “Yes, Mr. Min?”

“YOUR REPORTS ON MY CLIENT ARE LATE!”

“No they aren’t! They aren’t due for another three days!” you tried to defend. Everyone else was starting to stare. They all knew how they treated you and they all felt super bad that he chose you to bully. 

“I SENT AN EMAIL YESTERDAY SAYING I WANTED IT TODAY AT 10:00 IT’S NOW 2:00!”

“No you didn’t! I would have seen it-” you tried to speak.

“YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO HAVE IT DONE OR YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR JOB.” 

“Y/N, don’t cry...you’re doing that thing you do when you’re about to cry.” your friend came over to your side. “Don’t waste your tears on that asshole.”

You inhaled dramatically, starting to type furiously through your blurry vision. You felt the tear slip down your cheek and you went to furiously wipe it.

...(Lunchtime: Thursday Afternoon)

Sobbing in the bathroom was a thing right?

Your two friends, Dahyun and Sana stood outside the bathroom stall as you sobbed into your hands. They were convincing you to not quit.

“Y/N, You know this is the only job that will let you live comfortably in this city. Other than being a teacher...and who’d want that?” Sana shuddered. “He’s done this more than TWICE now.” (...I’M NOT SORRY)

“I HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HIM.” You cried. “WHY IS HE ALWAYS MEAN TO ME!” You furiously wiped your eyes.

“Y/N, Open the door.” Dahyun sighed. “Let us in.”

The stall door slowly open and your two friends were met by a totally distraught woman. Your hands were stained with your eyeliner that you hand managed to completely wipe off leaving your tired face. 

“Y/N, he’s working you to the bone. You don’t even smile anymore.” Sana kneeled in front of you, taking your dirty hands into hers. “Why do you let him bully you?”

“Because if I don’t, I won’t have a job.” you sniffed. 

“Is someone dying in here?” you heard Miss. Hyuna, another boss walk in. “Aw honey, did a boyfriend break up with you...do you want me to ‘accidentally’ get his car towed?”

Miss Hyuna was both Sana’s and Dahyun’s boss, you guys just liked to have lunch together.

“It’s Mr. Min.” Dahyun spoke for you. “He’s working Y/N to the bone. He only ever bullies her and no one else. I’ve seen it personally.”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow, looking less than happy. “Is that true Miss. L/N. Is Mr. Min treating you unfairly?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. 

“All he does is yell at and belittle her every chance he gets.” Sana looked at Miss. Hyuna.

“Hm, I’ll go talk to him, right now. If he fires you, he’ll answer to me.” was all she said before she walked away. She ignored Sana trying to hold you back from stopping her.

Hyuna walked out of the bathroom with fire in her eyes. She walked by your desk only to see what looked like an open notebook with the words ‘The Min Yoongi Files’ written in permanent marker on the first page.

“This must be her case.” she shut the notebook, ignoring the childish looking anime stickers on the inside page. “I should take this for evidence, I hope she won’t mind.”

“Yoongi!” Hyuna stormed into his office, shutting the door behind her.

“Hey Hyuna, what’s up?” Yoongi looked up from his lunch. “What can I do for you?”

“What’s this I hear about you mistreating a worker? One of YOUR workers?”

“Pardon me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Mistreating?”

“Two of MY workers are busy consoling Y/N L/N in the ladies restroom on their lunch break of all times because according to all three of them, you’ve been unfairly treating her!!” she glared. She slammed the notebook down on his desk. “This should speak for itself.” she sighed. 

“I don’t mistreat Y/N L/N, She’s insolent! She needs discipline.”

“SHE’S YOUNG.” Was Hyuna’s comeback. “You can’t treat her like she’s a piece of garbage just because she makes one typo!” 

“Her typos cost us time.”

“So does your shameless reprimanding her for missing a semicolon.” she rebutted. “Think about it! Are men always this stupid.” she looked him up and down before walking out of his office.

Yoongi watched dumbfounded. He took at look at the notebook she left behind.

“Property of Y/N L/N.” he read aloud. He flipped it open to the first page to see a bunch of shiny and matte stickers all over the inside cover. “The Min Yoongi Files? Speak for itself, huh?” (read more below the break)

...

(The Next Morning) (Smut Warning)

You begrudgingly trudged into the office. Not only were you tired, but you were dreading. You had multiple deadlines.

“L/N, MY OFFICE.”

“Shit...” you seethed. You walked past your desk into Yoongi’s office. He was sitting at his desk, flipping through the pages of a very familiar looking book. “You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes, I did.” he shut the book and slid it over to you. “Care to explain?”

“Holy fu- ” You had forgotten you left your diary on your desk. How did he get a hold of that?

“ I found that little journal you made about me. I think it’s so cute how you fantasize about me, darling. Hyuna gave it to me thinking it was a list of every terrible thing I’ve done to you. I didn’t know it would be a list of every terrible thing you wanted me to do to you.” his face spread into a smirk. 

“You read my property-”

“My name is on it, which means it’s company property by association.” he was still smirking. “Y/N, Y/N Y/N...I didn’t know you were such a needy little girl. On my desk, in the breakroom? The elevator of all places?? I didn’t even know you enjoyed when I raised my voice.“ he raised an eyebrow. “You do realize I could have you fired for writing about me in such a way.”

“Yes sir.” you whimpered. “I’ll have all my sh-..stuff off my desk by-”

“Y/N what on earth are you talking about?” he raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t think you are fired.”

“I’m sorry?” you raised an eyebrow, becoming very confused. 

“Even though I’m an asshole, a big jerk, and the bane of your existence, you still want me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you have more of a backbone than I thought. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to miss a chance to break that spirit of yours.” he rose to his feet and walked around his desk to face you. “Get over here.” he urged.

He grabbed you by the hand and yanked you to his chest. He crashed his hot mouth over yours, capturing you in a kiss. He held both sides of your face gingerly. In a shock, you held onto his blazer jacket to stop from falling over.

“Hmm.” he moaned. 

“Mr. Min!” you gasped. “We can’t- I’m your secretary!! And I don’t know if you’re aware of this but you hate me.”

“ Whose gonna stop us? I own this fucking place, baby. “ he laughed manically. “And who the hell said I hated you? Plus you want this. I know you do because you wouldn’t have written about me throwing you on my desk and eating that little pussy...fuck that was my favorite story to date.” he spoke in a babyish voice. “Shit I’ve always loved what that ass does to me.”

You felt yourself melt in every way. The thought that someone would storm in didn’t even cross your mind. He back you up against the table, sitting you on the desk. Yoongi tore off his blazer and hastily undid his necktie.

He broke away from you, allowing you to suck in air. You took a deep breath as you felt your lips. He practically tore his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere to reveal that body. To say you were taken aback was the understatement of the century.

“ That’s right, you fucking worship me don’t you?” he smirked as you stared him down “ Look up at me like I’m your god” he quoted the exact words from the entry you had written just 5 days ago. 

“Oh, you read the whole thing.” you squeaked. “I am so fucked.” you whimpered.

“I’ll be honest, I’ve been needing a good way to unleash my stress.” he shrugged. “This is perfect..” he motioned, tugging the hem of your shirt, playing with and unfastening each button. “I can take out my stress and you get to feel the real thing instead of writing shameless fan fiction.” he laughed. “Don’t make any mistakes,” he drank in your body. “I want this to be more than sex.”

Before you could say another word, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist again. He leaned down and softly kissed your lips. You just prayed he didn’t taste the bacon, egg, and, cream cheese bagel you ate this morning. You didn’t know what to do, so you shyly returned his affections.

“Come on, act like how you write about. Moan for me, grab my hair-” he mumbled through kisses. “Kiss me like you hate me.” he grunted. “Unless-...”

He abruptly yanked down your skirt along with your panties. “Maybe we should do this right. Spread em, secretary.”

He wasted no time in hooking your legs around his shoulders. 

“Mr. M-min.” you whimpered, feeling something wet trailed up your slit. 

“Shit...you taste so fucking good.” he moaned. “Damnit Y/N, you coulda told me you wanted me earlier.” he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Maybe if you had a good fuck, your reports would be more punctual.”

“That report wasn’t due and you know it.” you found it in you to reply. You tilted your head back, feeling his fingers be introduced into your tightness. “F-fuh”

 “Come on, you love this shit.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against you. “Beg for me, beg for my mouth, beg for me to make you cum.” he moaned into your heat. “I said FUCKING BEG! ” he thrust his fingers even deeper. “Come on, scream my name.”

“M. Min, I- we- you....”

“Not that...my first name...fucking say it I wanna hear it. I wanna hear if its as cute in my mind when I read how I made you squirt all over my fucking desk.” he kept moving his mouth and fingers against you.

“Y-yoongi.” you obeyed. This only encouraged him.

 “I’m gonna corrupt your mind. I love to play with you like you’re a fucking violin.” he giggled.

(3 days later... )

You were sitting at your desk when a stack of papers was thrown on your desk.

“There are 8 typos, fix them.” was all he said before he walked off. 

“Not again.” your work friend, seethed “what is it this time.“ She didn’t look up from her computer as you flipped through the pages.

My office, now secretary ;). Followed by a whole bunch of gibberish that lasted several pages.

“I’ll go talk to him” you rolled your eyes, taking the pile with you. You walked into his office. “Okay sir-” you began, walking through the door. You closed it behind you. “What seems to be the-”

Before you could talk any more, you felt his hand trail under your skirt. You felt his breathy laugh on the back of your neck. 

“I was hoping...we could go over your reports last week. I don’t think we got enough done, do you?”

(I was on a deadline....BUT I DID IT, my head is POUNDING)

[mercurial-madhouse]

Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.

My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.

************

This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.

***

We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.

However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.

Have a great week!

- [redacted] Mods

***

This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.

I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.

The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.

The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.

I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.

I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.

The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.

I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.

So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.

I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.

I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.

Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.

I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”

This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.

In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.

Pain only comes from pain.

The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.

So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.

Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?

I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?

I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.

Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.

They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.

I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.

We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.

Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.

So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:

I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.

Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.

So here, now, is my truth:

I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.

I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.

I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.

I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.

This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.

Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.

So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.

You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.